That Can Be Arranged
by fermataoso
Summary: The ever-famed Thropp-Tiggular arranged marriage.  Bookverse.
1. Arrangements

AN: Thank you so much for all your reviews on Substitute. I have started working on an M-rated Elpharic, which I'll post after this story. As always thank you for reading and your much-appreciated reviews, and I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

"Elphaba, help your sister," Nanny's voice cut through the thin walls, and Elphaba didn't dare pretend she'd not heard. "I can't see to dinner and everything else. "

Setting a makeshift bookmark, Elphaba got up and knocked at her younger sister's door. "It's Elphaba. Can I come in?" She waited for her sister's familiar greeting to push the door open.

"Sleep well."

"I did, thank you. I was so tired."

Nessa sat primly on the edge of the bed, and Elphaba moved behind her to brush out the girl's long, glossy brown hair and fasten it back. "Which dress?"

"Could I have the pale blue one today?"

She arranged the dress on her sister's lovely frame, stifling an envious thought at how she could never wear such colors with her unique pigmentation. "Shawl?"

"The white one, please." Elphaba expertly folded it around the girl's shoulders to simulate the arms Nessa did not have. "Thank you, Fabala. How do I look?"

"Beautiful, as always." Elphaba's gruff tone did little to hide her fondness for her younger sibling, and Nessarose rested her head lightly on her sister's shoulder. "Ready?"

Nessa nodded and, with Elphaba's steadying hand, walked to dining room table just in time to see Nanny set down the plates.

"There she is." Nanny dropped a kiss on the top of Nessa's pretty head. "Elphaba, dear, go and fetch your father. Dinner's ready."

She did as she was told, pining again for her book and some peace. Why couldn't he be summoned in the same manner she had?

"Father?" she knocked at the lounge that he most preferred and peeked in, only to find it empty. She sighed. His office, then. She so hated to interrupt him in the midst of his torrential righteous eloquence, what with the subject matter of eternal damnation at the forefront of his mind. Still, in a choice between his wrath or Nanny's, he was a kitten to a tiger.

Her father's office door was wedged shut, and she lifted her hand to knock when she heard him answer, "That's right. She is."

An unusual topic for a sermon.

"I believe it would be an excellent match. Remember she is an heir to the Eminent Thropp as well, and I'm sure the crown prince would be well-complemented by her."

She straightened stiffly. She was the Thropp Third Descending. They were talking about her.

"No, I agree, this marriage shouldn't be rushed. The engagement must be long enough to plan an appropriate wedding."

Wedding! She leapt to her feet. Punished or not, she wasn't about to let him plot her into marriage without a fight. She tugged on the doorknob, only to find it locked. Hammering on the door, she called out loud protests as she tried to pry the door loose.

He heard her hollering and sped up the conversation. "Yes, yes, no, nothing to worry with. Certainly. We'll see you shortly. Excellent. Thank you. To you as well."

Her screams drew Nanny barreling down the hallway at the same time her father jerked open the door with the grimmest mouth she'd ever seen on him, Unionist minister and all. "What is the matter with you?" they asked in unison, though in decidedly different tones.

"He's bartering me off to some cad!" Nanny turned a bewildered look toward her father, whose face flushed. He opened his mouth, but Elphaba interrupted, "I won't let him marry me off to some stuffy prince I've never even met! I won't do it. I'm not some property to be traded about."

"Hush yourself, and let him get a word in," Nanny scolded, and with a calming hand on Elphaba's shoulder, turned to her father, "Frexspar, what on earth is she going on about?"

"I spoke with his Majesty. Everything is arranged for our trip and the engagement. She must have overheard." He turned to Elphaba with a glare, "Eavesdropping is a sin and the handmaiden of gossip."

"Oh, hush Frex. She doesn't need any of that repentance speeching now." Nanny's fingers dug into Elphaba's shoulder now to hold her from raging off. "Have you told Nessa?"

"Nessa?" Elphaba stopped squirming in shock.

"Yes, Nessarose, your sister," her father barked. "I couldn't very well surprise them with you. If your odd color didn't turn them off, your sharp tongue would."

"You needn't be so harsh," Nanny reproached, and he sullenly straightened his jacket.

"It is never wrong to proclaim the truth."

"Nessa?" She blinked, and as realization hit, she had to clench her fists not to hit him. "You've sold off Nessa? How could you?" Just the thought of some crusty, disgusting prince with his lecherous hands all over her darling little sister. She shuddered. "You're the most despicable-"

"Enough!" Frexspar barked. "I'll not take your insolence about matters that have no effect on you."

"No effect!"

"Oh, hush both of you. That's plenty howling for one night." Nanny shooed them toward the dining room. "Dinner's not getting any warm sitting there, and I don't fancy cold stew."

"Is everything alright?" Nessa asked when the group filtered in. "I heard shouting."

"You've been traded away," Elphaba snapped. "He's gone and married you off to some prince."

"I know," she answered calmly as the others took their seats around the table. Elphaba stared at her for a moment. "Didn't you?"

Elphaba pulled her arm out of Nanny's grip as the woman tried to lead her to the table. "No, I didn't know! I didn't know they'd sold my baby sister off to marry some stranger!"

"Fabala, why are you upset? I'm happy to be married."

"There," her father spoke. "She's happy. Now sit down and eat your dinner."

Elphaba started to argue, but Nessa's smooth voice asked, "Please don't be upset."

"I…" Elphaba sat down, confusion quickly making her ranting lose steam. "I'm not upset."

"Clearly," Shell muttered in the particularly obnoxious tone all little brothers are gifted with, and she turned to glare at him.

"I just –"

"Quiet. It's dinner time," Frexspar interrupted. "Let us pray."

* * *

Elphaba led her sister back to her room, still in turmoil at the night's news. "Don't be mad, Fabala," Nessa said softly. "I didn't mean to keep things from you."

"I know. I'm not upset with you. Really."

"But you are with Father?" Elphaba didn't answer. "Why are you so angry?"

"How could he sell you away like that? Like some old furniture." She sighed. "How could you let him? You know I would have helped you stop him."

Nessa sat carefully on the edge of her bed, scooting back. "Don't be so insolent. He's only thinking of me." Elphaba's scoff was ignored. "He wants me to be cared for, and married to a prince, I'll have plenty of people to take care of me. I wouldn't have to be a burden anymore."

Elphaba sat beside her. "You're not a burden. I would always take care of you."

"I know. But this way you don't have to." Nessa gave Elphaba a soft smile. "Truly, I'm grateful. I get to be someone's wife, and my intended sounds like a decent man." She leaned nearer to say, "And he's a prince. Faba, I'll be a real life princess."

"You're already our princess, Nessa."

Her sister smiled at her, and Elphaba tried to smile back. "Don't be sad."

"Where will you live? Will you stay in the Vinkus? I'm sure the prince has matters to attend to there."

"Don't worry." Nessa leaned her head on Elphaba's shoulder. "The Unnamed God will provide. You're not losing me, sister."

"Are you sure?" Elphaba stood to pace. "I mean, you haven't even met this prince. What if you're stuck there all the time?"

Nessa stumbled to her feet, and Elphaba caught her before she could fall. "Then you'll just have to come see me."

"If I'm welcome." She held up a hand before Nessa could argue. "And before you say I'll always be welcome where you are, I'd like to point out my unique talent for anti-sociability. I think I'm banned from at least half of Munchkinland as it is. Let alone somewhere I don't even know what offensive customs to avoid."

"Don't fret." Nessa brushed her forehead against her sister's cheek. "Everything will work out. Have faith."

"Hardly my strength." Elphaba stared at her a moment until Nessa's smile worked its infectious magic. She helped the girl sit. "Alright, fine," she picked up Nessa's book in one hand and her own in the other. "I'll keep my doubts to myself."

"Any chance of removing the doubts?"

"Slim to none," Elphaba answered, turning the page with her thumb. "Tell me when."

"Okay, next page." The two fell into their usual evening routine.


	2. Arrivals

AN: Thank you for reading and especially those of you who took the time to review or PM me. I really appreciate it.

* * *

"Fabala!" Nessa called from the other room.

Her urgency drew Elphaba to her in an instant, breathless. "What? What's wrong?"

"You're coming with us to the Vinkus. Nanny said she'd stay with Shell, and Father doesn't mind so long as you don't cause an international incident. You'll see for yourself there's nothing to fear."

Nothing could be worse than to be stuck here with sick, bratty Shell. "Nanny, you don't mind?"

"Of course not!" Nanny waved off her concern and straightened the cushions. "Old woman like me, I was dreading that wearisome trip like you can't imagine. Now, time for bed, my pretties."

Elphaba huffed. "If she's old enough to be bred off like a cow, isn't she old enough to pick her own bedtime?"

"That's quite enough out of you. No one's livestock here." Nanny hustled the girls out and followed Nessa to settle her for the night.

Elphaba crawled into bed and cracked the curtains to read by moonlight. She'd barely managed a page when Nanny bustled in.

She turned a stern face to Elphaba, who guiltily slid the book under her pillow. "You ought to know, dearest, it's not some leisure trip you're off on. It'll be your job to see that your sister's cared for correctly. You'll need to show the servant girls the right way to do things. Make sure they learn."

Elphaba nodded. She could picture Nanny bossing around all the young maids, instructing them how to treat Nessa like the queen she was, and Elphaba felt a sudden weight at the responsibility.

"More importantly, you'll need to teach her husband how to care for her." Elphaba bristled, but Nanny took her arm. "Which means, you have to get along with him. For your sister's sake. So keep that sharp tongue and fiery temper of yours in check."

"I'll play nice with the little prince."

"This isn't a game, poppet. Promise me."

Elphaba lifted her eyes petulantly to meet Nanny's, surprised at the sincere worry reflected back. Sobered, she promised.

"Best mean it, too. Don't think I won't know, even with those thousand miles between us." Elphaba smiled, certain of the verity of that claim. "Right." Nanny relaxed. "Off to sleep. You've got a long trip ahead of you." The door shut behind her, and Nanny called back, "And no more reading. The Unnamed God knows you've done plenty of that in your lifetime to make it through eternity and back."

* * *

The next morning came all too soon, and Elphaba packed both girls' bags into the carriage. A sleepy Shell waved his lanky arm at the girls from the window. Then he rolled over and fell back asleep.

Nanny clucked at him and settled Nessa in the carriage with a kiss. "Take care of each other, girls." She fussed over Nessa's meticulously placed shawl as if her life depended on it. "Next time I see you, you'll probably have little ones running around."

"If I do, I'll be calling for you, Nanny dear."

"Oh goodness," she patted the girl's cheek, fondness beaming from every pore. "I'm far too old to be raising more young ones. I still remember your mother when she was a tiny thing."

"Time to go," Frexspar climbed into the carriage. "We're late as it is." Nanny gave the girls another kiss goodbye with only the smallest of sniffles.

As they rumbled off, Nessa leaned against Elphaba's side. "Why is everyone acting like I'm going to die?"

"You are," she glared at the window.

"I'm just getting married."

"Exactly."

Frexspar heaved another heavy sigh, and Elphaba pressed her lips shut. She envied this prince that would share her sister's life while she might never see the girl again. Nessa nuzzled into her shoulder, lulled to sleep by the rocking carriage, and Elphaba brooded. Her only hope was for time to slow on the long journey.

Instead it seemed to flash forward. The days felt like seconds, and before she could resist, the gentle plains of fertile Munchkinland had given way to the shadowed woodlands of The Pine Barrens and finally to the dry, dusty wasteland of the Vinkus.

Vast and flat, it should have been hours of the same image, but the miles rocketed past as if she were a snail caught on the carriage, flung forward at an impossible speed and powerless to slow it. She willed each new rock and ridge to crumble and block the path. But they were as heedless of her as her father, just as solid and just as heartless.

And helplessly she watched until they arrived at the stone-faced entrance of a castle, grand and awe-inspiring against the bold backdrop of the cloudless sky.

Elphaba stepped out first, impressed despite herself at Nessa's future home. It was a true oasis in an otherwise unforgiving terrain.

"How is it?" Nessa called from inside the carriage. "I'm afraid to look."

"It's alright, I suppose."

She took a couple stiff steps down and gasped, "Oh, Fabala! It's beautiful!"

"Not as beautiful as you deserve," Elphaba answered, not quite certain it was the truth.

Large pillars of sandstone led the eye to the heavens. Harbors of desert rose crystals caught the sunlight as it flooded from the heavens, powerful and undiluted. Pools and fountains defied the very nature of a desert, glistening in the heat like diamonds, and their presence nurtured vivid flowers and plantlife. Everywhere were vibrant colors shading red-orange and green and purple against the bright blue of the sky.

Elphaba hated it.

It must have shown on her face. "You don't like it?" Nessa asked hesitantly.

"It's fine. Too many colors." Elphaba placed a hand on her sister's back. "But I don't have to live here. Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful," Nessa repeated in awe, and Elphaba had no rebuttal.

A quartet of valets appeared as if transformed from the rocks lining the path. They managed the carriage and luggage with silent efficiency before dissolving back into the scenery. Elphaba found it most unnerving.

"Your presence honors us." A butler met them on the path and bowed low before the three road-wearied travelers. "Might I announce your arrival to their majesties?"

Her father stepped forward. "Please. They should be expecting us."

"Certainly, sir. If you would follow me?"

The butler led them through the outer courtyard, and Elphaba escorted her sister, mindful of the uneven stones decorating the mosaic ground. Nessa gazed at the cascading fountains and brilliant foliage, whispering her favorites in an awe-drenched hush. They reached the main entrance, and porters swung the wide gates open. There stretched a majestic reception room larger in its own right than their entire house.

Frex caught her shoulder. "Don't do anything to embarrass me, girl," he growled in her ear. "You're only here because Nessarose begged, and I swear I'll send you back in a heartbeat."

She had no doubt her father meant every word.

Inside, the baking brilliance of the afternoon sun gave way to a cool shade softened by silk curtains, which bathed the room in gold. Statues adorned the outer sitting areas, and Elphaba found herself drawn to one image. The handsome face held a softness despite the firm edges, kindness radiating where its eyes met the carefree smile of a pretty girl, flowers in her outstretched hand.

Entranced, she missed the exit of their steward until his return with another. "His highness, Lord Sir Fiyero." Her eyes snapped up to face the statue brought to life. "Prince of the Arjiki, Sovereign of Kiamo Ko, Mighiest Stalker of the Thousand Year Grasslands, Chiefest Chieftain of the Great Kells, Noblest…"

The prince coughed, and the steward stumbled to a halt awkwardly after the superlative. "Welcome, most cherished guests. Your presence honors us."


	3. Impressions

AN: Thanks again for all your reviews. They make my day. :-)

* * *

Elphaba bit her lip. So this was the oaf who sought to buy her little sister's hand in marriage. She supposed his face wasn't altogether unpleasant to look at. Nessa would probably admire it, what with his strong chin and gentle smile. His eyes flicked to hers, piercing in their intensity, and she reflexively scowled.

"We're grateful for the welcome. Brother Frexspar, ordained in the service of the Unnamed God." He gripped the darker man's hand and shook it firmly. "May I present my daughters, Elphaba Thropp, Third Descending, and Nessarose, your intended." The prince inclined his head, and with a hand from her father, Nessa dipped forward in an awkward curtsy. Elphaba just glared.

"Charmed," the prince delivered a kiss to Elphaba's hand and one to Nessa's cheek, with no hand being available. "I hope I am not too forward, Miss Nessarose."

"Of course not," her father answered despite Nessa's wince. "After all, she is your future bride."

The prince nodded, but he stepped back at once.

"Shall I show you to your quarters? I'm sure after such a long journey, it would be a relief to freshen up and relax. The King and Queen are eager to meet you, but your comfort is of our first concern."

Her father nodded. "How considerate. If you are amenable, I would like to speak with Their Majesties first. My daughters, though, will undoubtedly wish to wash and dress more appropriately for such an honor."

Elphaba shot him a look, but for once in her life, she managed to keep her tongue.

"Of course." The prince gestured toward a wall and another steward emerged from beyond the thin tapestry. "Escort these ladies to their quarters." He turned back to their father. "If you would follow me..."

The pair retreated through the domed entrance, leaving the steward to bow. "Madames."

He guided them down the farthest hall past elegant vases and luxurious tapestries to a large suite. Then with a deep bow, he slipped away.

Their trunks waited in their rooms, their toiletries already dispersed to the elegant bath. Elphaba helped her sister undress and pulled on her waterproof gloves as the water filled the tub.

"Oh, Fabala. Isn't it perfect?" Nessa beamed as Elphaba lowered her carefully into the water. She stretched and giggled. "Even the water is perfect. Smell it. It smells like lavender."

"What possible use is lavender-smelling water? Who'd want to drink that?"

"Maybe it's just for the bath?" Elphaba snorted, and Nessa leaned back into her soapy glove-covered hands. "The Unnamed God is truly generous beyond measure. So. What did you think of Prince Fiyero?"

Elphaba grunted and rinsed the girl's back.

"I can't believe I'm to marry someone so handsome. And his accent! It's so…" She blushed and bit her lip.

"I'm glad you're happy, my pretty."

Elphaba withdrew her from the tub, drained the water, and toweled her dry. Nessa selected her favorite dress, and Elphaba wrapped her in it, immune to the evaluative chatter that spilled from her younger sister's mouth. She styled her sister's hair as carefully as she could, wishing Nanny could be there. What did she know of pretty waves and shiny curls?

Nessa laughed at the pensive expression reflected in the mirror. "It's only hair, Faba. It won't explode."

"Should I do it like mine?" Elphaba answered, cackling at the girl's expression. The tight braid suited a hopeless face like hers, but it would be painfully dull on pretty Nessarose. "I thought you'd like to impress your fiancé, but if you'd rather…"

"You've made your point." She returned to coiling Nessa's beautiful hair in her best imitation of Nanny's styling. "But you need time for your own appearance, as well."

"Oh, dearest. What point is that? Why squeeze a pig into pinafore?"

Nessa shook her head in disapproval, but a knock interrupted her retort. Their father ducked in, a fond smile for Nessa and a scowl for Elphaba. "Why aren't you dressed?"

"I am dr-" Elphaba started, but Nessa cut her off.

"She just finished my hair, Father. I'm sure she was about to start her own preparations, right, Fabala?" She sent a pointed stare to Elphaba.

"The things I do for you," she muttered as she snatched up a clean dress. "I don't see why I have to be dressed up. He's not my husband."

Nessa studied the ground, cheeks red, and Elphaba immediately regretted her words. She took out her apology in the form of effort, actually trying to convert her long, stringy hair and sharp appearance into something passing for pretty…ish.

Satisfied at the effort if not the result, she stepped out, but Frexspar immediately scowled. "Honestly, Elphaba. Stop being difficult."

"I'm not," she huffed.

"It's not a funeral. You're not wearing black. Change."

She bit back a catty retort and settled for, "All I brought were black dresses."

"So wear Nessa's."

"I can't wear Nessa's! She's tiny."

Frexspar strode to her and glared. "I don't care if you go naked – you're not wearing that dress!"

"Fine." She reached behind her to unzip the dress, and he groaned.

"Elphaba, so help me-"

"What do you suggest, Father?" she seethed. "Should I wear the unseemly dress or the unsightly one?"

"Perhaps she could wear one of my shawls," Nessa compromised. He conceded with a heavy sigh, and Elphaba rolled her eyes.

"It's not as if anyone will be looking at me, anyway. Or at least they shouldn't. You're his fiancée."

"You do tend to draw the eye," Nessa stood awkwardly. "Why don't you take the one with gold roses. It'll look nice on you."

"That would be a miracle," Elphaba scoffed, but she tossed the shawl around her shoulders and followed them out. Those ghostly stewards reappeared to direct them to the dining hall, though Elphaba's ill humor left her numb to the rich luxury sprawled through the palace.

Prince Fiyero met them at the entrance with an arm held out, clearly out of habit. When he caught sight of Nessa, he flushed at the obvious problem that offered, and directed his arm to Elphaba instead. She stared at him coldly.

"Ladies?" he chanced, and Nessa stepped to his side. He struggled subtly to find the appropriate greeting. Shaking her head, Elphaba pushed her way between them and steered her sister toward the table.

"Elphaba!" Nessa hissed, glancing back to the trailing prince. "What are you doing?"

"You'd rather stare at each other for hours, blocking the door?" She sighed at her sister's expression and slowed so their host could join them.

He directed them to seats and pulled out Nessa's chair for her. His eyes flicked to Elphaba, but she'd already seated herself beside her sister. He took the other side and flashed them a smile charming in its awkwardness. "I trust your journey was pleasant?"

Nessa blushed prettily and nodded. What a strong start to this marriage – Nessa voiceless and her beau thoughtless. Elphaba rolled her eyes until her sister stomped her foot. "Long," she coughed out.

"But uneventful." Frexspar's stern face smoothed into piety. "Which is all we can ask for, bless the Unnamed Lord."

Nessa bowed her head reverently.

"Do you like duck?" The prince turned toward the girls, clearly tasked with entertaining them. She had to credit him that he faked interest well. Certainly better than she did.

Nessa nodded.

"She doesn't," Elphaba sighed. Nessa shot her a murderous glare, but she shrugged. "What? You don't."

Nessa spun back to face the prince, horrified, but he chuckled and called over a steward. "Does she like chicken?" he asked Elphaba with a smile. She nodded, and he instructed the man in a low voice to switch her meal with his. "I'm not too partial to duck, myself," he confided with a wink.

Nessa's pink skin reddened to near radioactive levels. "I should hate to take your meal from you," she whispered coyly, and he rewarded her with a warm smile.

"Please. I'm happy to oblige a lady in need."

The dinner stretched achingly long, with Elphaba spooning food for herself and Nessa in alternation. She bristled when the prince raised his eyebrows in well-concealed surprise, but he managed to avoid staring without ignoring Nessa.

It had left her poised to snap at him, with no ammunition for him to deserve it.

On edge, she'd bitten her tongue to keep from saying something to embarrass her sister. She felt like a harp string stretched to its limit and plucked, vibrating with unsolvable tension.

At long last, the king turned to Frexspar. "I'm sure your journey must have worn on you all." He saw Nessa's disappointment written clearly on her face and smiled. "Though, I suppose the children might enjoy the rest of the evening." Elphaba bristled at the word children, but managed again to stay silent. Oz, she deserved a medal for this trip. With a pat to his queen's hand, the king stood. "Fiyero, I think our guests could use a tour of the castle."

The prince nodded obediently.

"Brother Frexspar, might we interest you in a brandy?" He took in Frex's expression and altered, "Perhaps an evening coffee and talks of politics?"

The adults filed out, and Nessa stared at Elphaba pointedly, willing her to disappear like one of those creepy invisible stewards. Third wheel or not, she was not going to leave her baby sister alone and defenseless with this near stranger. He might be her future husband, but Elphaba didn't trust him. No one that charming could be up to any kind of good.

Prince Fiyero stood to draw back Nessa's chair. He shifted, clearly uncertain how to offer her a hand to stand, and Elphaba stepped in before he could embarrass the poor girl. "Let's see this castle."

Nessa look appalled, but the prince laughed. "Right then." He relaxed into a stunning smile. "Shall we?"


	4. Acclimatize

The prince gestured toward the large doors they'd entered through, and Elphaba's hand on Nessa's back supported her direction change. She noticed him clandestinely studying them, and she barked, "What?"

"Nothing. Just…" He hesitated, eyes flicking toward Nessa. "Nothing." But his gaze found her hand again.

Elphaba narrowed her eyes. Before she could start, Nessa turned to their host. "You have a beautiful home." A scripted response, perhaps, but more words than Nessa had been able to string together in his presence all night.

The prince smiled. "Thank you, Miss Nessarose." She blushed as he leaned into them to whisper, "Wait until you see the best rooms."

With the formal part of their introductions over, the prince's relaxed charm eased any awkwardness away. He led them through room after room filled with opulence and beauty. As they took in the décor, he absorbed their reactions, and soon his smile became infectious.

"What a lovely garden!" Nessa breathed in the scent of a huge flowering lily. "And to think that all this can grow in a desert." She flushed an even pinker shade than natural for her. "I mean…"

Prince Fiyero smiled indulgently. "I agree. It is quite remarkable, more so for the climate it grows in." He flashed Elphaba a conspiratorial grin. "Though I am certain your country is equally remarkable, if not more so, I am relieved we do not disappoint."

"Have you been?"

"I'm afraid not. If I had known such beautiful girls were there, I would certainly have arranged to visit sooner."

Elphaba frowned. "So you spend much time chasing women, then?"

Nessa paled, but he laughed. "I see you think highly of me already. Not to fear, Miss Elphaba. My intentions are most thoroughly honorable."

"That's an indirect answer."

"True, my apologies." He met her eyes confidently. "No, Miss Elphaba, I do not." She searched his gaze for any duplicity, but he seemed earnest enough. "I suppose I'm old-fashioned in that regard."

She gave a curt nod. Nessa deserved that loyalty at the very least.

He led them forward, weaving through a courtyard of bronzed statues. "Tell me about your home. From what I've heard, I imagine it's quite lush and fertile."

Elphaba shot him a look at his wording. "It's alright."

"It must be lovely - a sea of green vegetation tamed into productive farmlands."

"It's more yellow than green, really," Nessa supplied. "The main crops are wheat and corn. Though the corn does grow green. It's only yellow out of the stalk." She snapped her teeth shut to stop rambling, embarrassed, but the prince seemed unfazed.

"Is that so?" He squinted thoughtfully. "I can't quite picture it. Perhaps we can arrange a trip some time, if you don't mind returning the hospitality."

"Why would we?" Elphaba bristled.

"Splendid." The prince opened the iron doors at the edge of the courtyard. "I'll look forward to it."

"Where are we now?" Nessa asked as they entered a broad marble hallway.

"This is the formal section of the castle for banquets and balls and the like. That fountain is my mother's favorite." He indicated a large babbling pool adorned with a pair of lovers spraying water in the shape of a heart. "Not very subtle, but romantic I suppose."

"It's so pretty," Nessa said. She leaned so close that Elphaba had to press a warning hand on her sister's side lest the girl fall in. She stepped back and nodded toward the large double doors. "And through there?"

Prince Fiyero cleared his throat. "That's the, um, throne room. Where we're to be…" Nessa's eyes widened as he trailed off.

An anxious silence fell.

He cleared his throat, and without touching the doors, he turned away. "Shall we?"

Each step brought an easier mood until they reached a bright, comfortable room. "Ah, here we are." He winked at them and spun a dial to float music through the air. "The ballroom is through there," he gestured toward a set of elaborate glass doors. Dimly she could see hints of a polished dance floor and crystal chandeliers beyond. "But I much prefer the salon. Fewer people to collide with."

Nessa tucked her head lower and gazed through her lashes at him. "Do you dance, then?"

He chuckled. "Quite often, I'm afraid. It's a requirement, given my duties, although, I probably enjoy it far more than I should."

"Moderation is essential in all aspects of our lives." Elphaba could barely resist rolling her eyes at Nessa's predictably penitent response.

Fiyero's lip quirked at the corner, and he replied, "But isn't that application immoderate in its own nature? Or is it meant to be applied in moderation, also?"

"Extreme moderation, of course. What other kind is there?" Elphaba cackled, but her sister's face clouded. "Oh, Nessa, you needn't take it so personal. He's teasing."

"I'm sorry. I meant no offense." Prince Fiyero's look of contrition was only spoiled by his suppressed laughter each time his eyes met Elphaba's. "You're getting me in trouble," he accused with a smile, and she responded with an unladylike tongue stuck from her mouth.

"Faba!" Nessa hissed even as the prince burst into laughter.

"What challenge can I have to that? You have bested me again Miss Elphaba."

"Again? What do you mean?"

He blushed, gaze flicking toward Nessa. "Dinner." She furrowed her brow. "Our awkward arrival, all my fault I must confess."

Elphaba's face hardened. How could he bring that up in front of Nessa?

He cleared his throat at the ferocity of her reaction. "I will move quicker to seat you in the future though, so you needn't take matters in your own hands. Never let it be said that I'm an incompetent host."

He relaxed slightly at the save, but Elphaba's expression remained stony. Nessa giggled. "Oh, you'll have to excuse Elphaba. She's determinedly self-sufficient. To the point of stubbornness. The only help she believes in is herself. And her books, I suppose."

"So you read, then?"

Her nod was glacial.

"Who do you prefer?"

She stared at him. He shifted, unnerved by her sudden hostility.

"Shall we continue?" He directed them through another labyrinth of fountains and statues and priceless artwork, indicating room after room, though Elphaba had long stopped listening. His charm had lulled her into a false security once. She'd be damned if he'd manage it again.

Nessa, oblivious to the sudden tension, giggled amicably at Fiyero's comical descriptions. She seemed unaware his smile had tightened, his eyes seeking Elphaba's expression with each comment.

"I don't know if we've missed sunset, but the view from this balcony is always spectacular." The prince led them onto a cozy portico perched between the turrets of the castle.

The broad night sky took Elphaba's breath away even as Nessa gasped, "Is it really so late?"

Not a speck of sunlight remained, only the twinkling stars and the brilliance of the near-full moon. Dark cliffs caressed the smooth, clear sky, and from their vantage point, she felt as if she could leap from those cliffs to grasp a handful of stars as real and tangible as the sand blown in misty waves by the billowing wind.

She shivered, surprised by the chill that had conquered the enormity of the desert heat, and he stepped closer. "I should have mentioned – the climate is quite fickle with its heat. Burning days make for freezing nights, surprisingly enough."

He slipped off his jacket and set it carefully on Nessa's shoulders. She whispered her thanks and trailed along the railing to investigate the view. The prince moved to Elphaba. "If you'd like I can get one for you, too…"

She shook her head and leaned forward into the stone holding her from the arresting presence of the sky, and he rested his shoulder against her such that the chill of the wall combined with the warmth of his arm.

Her lightheaded reaction she chalked up to inadequate oxygen in the face of such a breathtaking sky.

"It's so…" she whispered, but she could find no word to follow. Beautiful fell drastically short.

"I know," he whispered back, and she felt such an ethereal connection uniting her, him, all mankind and the omnipresence of the sky.

She shivered again, and he moved closer, his hand tentatively set on the small of her back. The chaste position communicated only a gentlemanly desire to keep her warm, but she flinched nonetheless.

He swallowed. "You shouldn't lean on the stone so late. It only keeps the warmth of the sun for an hour or so."

She nodded, but didn't move. They watched the stars tickle the mountains in silence for a long timeless moment. A cooler breeze blew, and instinctively Elphaba scooted against the prince's warm side before she could consider the propriety of such contact. His hand left her back to rub her opposite arm. "Cold?" he breathed, misting the air.

She didn't answer, caught in the trance of moon and night.

"Do you want that jacket now?"

She shook her head.

He fingered the thin fabric of Nessa's wrap on her arm. "That shawl is pretty, but not too practical. It can't be keeping you warm." He stepped behind her and set both hands gently on her arms. "I'd be a terrible host if I let you freeze to death."

She smirked. "I doubt I'll freeze from a little night air."

"You'd be surprised." She didn't quite believe him, but his warmth wrapped around her was comfortable and welcoming, making her accept its practicality. "Any warmer?"

"Mmm."

"Good," his voice low, but she heard a smile in it. "I'm glad I'm finally of some use to you, then."

She chuckled softly and rested her head back against his shoulder.

Nessa yawned and turned toward them. Elphaba guiltily slid away from the prince, surprised at her behavior with Fiyero (her sister's fiancé, she corrected firmly, and a stranger no less) however innocent her intentions.

She strode to her sister's side. "Tired?"

Nessa nodded, and Fiyero held the door for the girls to file back in. "Sorry to keep you so late," he said as he guided them back toward familiar ground. "Perhaps we can continue tomorrow?"

"Please," Nessa beamed up at him coquettishly. "With such a large castle, I'm certain I won't remember how to find anything."

"Not to worry." He tweaked her nose playfully. "We won't let you get lost."

They fell into a comfortable quiet punctuated only with Nessa's discrete yawns until they reached the girls' quarters.

"Ladies." Fiyero bowed charmingly. "Thank you for the pleasure of your company. Until tomorrow."

He kissed Elphaba's hand goodnight and winked at Nessa with a roguish smile that had her giggling. Then he turned on his heel and vanished around the corner.

Nessa leaned her head on her sister's shoulder. "Fabala, can you believe it? I'm marrying a real prince charming."


	5. Barbaric

Elphaba awoke with the sun and a new determination not to let Nessa's fiancé past her guard again. He might be charming, and handsome, and gentlemanly, but he was stealing her sister from her as surely as a kidnapper.

She led her sister to the kitchen, grateful for her impeccable sense of direction. Nessa had not exaggerated the difficulty in remembering the castle's elaborate layout, and without Elphaba's help, the poor girl would have needed a bloodhound and a compass just to find the bath.

They turned the corner, only to slam into the prince headed in the opposite direction. It pushed Nessa off-balance, and she stumbled face-first into the wall before either could catch her. "You idiot! Watch where you're going," Elphaba hissed as she hauled her sister back to her feet. "Are you okay?"

Nessa nodded, flushed but unhurt. The wall had been too close to cause real damage beyond total mortification.

"Are you certain you're alright?" The prince leaned close and brushed Nessa's hair behind her ear, studying her face for damage.

"I'm fine." Elphaba suspected her sister's blush this time came more from the boy's presence than from embarrassment, but she wasn't so easily won over. "The Unnamed God commands our forgiveness to all offenses."

He leaned back, unsure how to take that.

"What in Oz were you doing, anyway," Elphaba scowled, "whirling around corners and knocking people over?"

"I was sent to fetch you for breakfast, but apparently your memory is better than you claimed."

"That's Elphaba," Nessa supplied. "I'm certain she could navigate the Great Desert itself with neither map nor compass."

"Oh?" He studied her with a measuring gaze, and she jerked her shoulders in an indifferent shrug. "I suppose I know who to take hunting with me, then, to make sure I return home safely."

Her eyes vanished into narrow slits. "Hunting?"

"Once a fortnight. Tradition largely, but it keeps us touch with our nomadic past while sharpening our senses. A man is not a man unless he can provide for his family."

"Barbaric," she snarled. "You murder living things for sport and pass it off as noble?"

"Elphaba!" She whirled to see Frexspar behind them, none too happy with her candor. "Watch your tongue, girl. Your highness, please forgive her. I'm afraid my oldest daughter is not quite the conversationalist your intended is."

"Not at all." The prince flashed a gracious smile. "I have found both ladies to be quite eloquent in their own manner. A strong opinion is to be admired." He turned back to her. "I assure you, we do not hunt for mere sport. Each kill is respected and is used to its fullest."

She snorted.

"Do you not eat meat, Miss Elphaba?"

"It's not the same."

"In what way?" She sputtered uselessly for an argument, but he'd left none for her. "Perhaps you might come with me sometime. You might find that you have misjudged us, or if not, you could indicate which practices you find so barbaric that I may avoid offending you."

"No." Her father's glare had her amending a halfhearted, "thank you," to her blunt refusal.

She sulked in silence as they arrived at the kitchen. Fiyero pulled two chairs out before Elphaba could sit, but she moved to sit on Nessa's opposite side. He blinked down at her in surprise before taking the other chair himself.

"I trust you slept well?" Nessa nodded and launched into gushing praise for their accommodations. His lazy smile only annoyed Elphaba more. "I'm glad we meet your expectations." They played with some idle conversation, often tossing questions Elphaba's way to drag her in, but she studied her breakfast as if cataloging each separate atom.

"Are you not hungry?" Fiyero asked Nessa conversationally. "I see you lack your sister's enthusiasm for our cuisine."

Elphaba popped her head up. "Oh, Nessa, I'm so sorry." She held up a spoonful of sweet porridge, which Nessa ate primly.

"What fruit is that?" Nessa nodded toward a bright blue and orange pear-shaped fruit resting near Fiyero.

"A bryla. Very tangy, but with a sweet aftertaste. Would you like to try it?"

Fiyero ignored Elphaba's outstretched hand and lifted it for her sister. The distance drew Nessa slightly off-balance, and when she took a bite, the dark, sticky juice sprayed over her chin. She winced at the mess, ever the dainty eater, and Elphaba scowled at him, knocking his hand away to wipe her sister's face.

"What do you think?"

"It's delicious," Nessa cooed. "Is it common here?"

"Quite." He gestured with the fruit. "More?"

Nessa nodded, and before Fiyero could hold it up again, Elphaba snatched it from his hand. She trimmed a bite with her knife and popped it in Nessa's mouth. "Try some, Fabala. It's wonderful."

Fiyero held another fruit with a tempting smile. "Shall I feed you, too?"

"Are you cruel or daft?"

Elphaba's glare cut like a diamond, and he blinked, genuinely taken aback. "I…"

"Fabala," Nessa hissed, cheeks turning red, but Elphaba wouldn't be dissuaded.

"What right do you have to say that?"

Her outburst drew their parents' attention. "What is it now, girl? Are you so thoroughly incapable of polite conversation?" Frexspar barked at her. He turned back to the King and Queen. "Please forgive my daughter, your highnesses. She is-"

"Not at fault." Fiyero supplied quickly. "I'm afraid I offended her, for which I am deeply apologetic." He turned to face her. "It was thoughtless, but unintentional, I assure you."

"Then perhaps you should spend as much time on your thoughts as you do on your apologies."

"Of course, Miss Elphaba."

He held out the bryla as a peace offering, and she rolled her eyes as she snatched it. Nessa encouraged her to try it, so Elphaba lifted the fruit to her lips. The taste surprised her – a tart, syrupy taste that coated her throat only to dissolve into a light, sweet flavor that begged for more.

"Well?"

She turned to face Nessa's inquiry and smiled. "Not bad, my pretty."

"Blessed be the Unnamed God's bounty and grace." Nessa intoned, and Elphaba quirked her head to see if the girl wanted more.

Fiyero wisely held his tongue as the girls ate their fruit, though cutting Nessa's pieces left Elphaba only time for ragged bites of her own. She supposed she more closely resembled the savage at the moment, but at least she didn't slaughter poor innocent creatures.

"Shall we continue our tour, or would you ladies prefer an alternate engagement?"

Nessa's eyes flicked away at the last word, but her voice betrayed nothing as she answered, "Whatever you prefer, good sir."

The prince's lip twitched at her formality, but Frexspar nodded. His whisper carried easily from his intended audience to reach them all, "See, the faults of the eldest are not in bearing on lovely Nessarose. I trust you understand why I recommended her for this cherished union."

Fiyero's frown was far from subtle. He opened his mouth to speak, but Elphaba interjected, "I think we exhausted the tour last night."

"Though I'm certain you have many more enchanting rooms in so grand a castle," Nessa supplied sweetly. "It's so large and splendid."

Fiyero acknowledged her praise with a courtly nod. "But if Miss Elphaba would prefer an alternate activity…"

"Elphaba can entertain herself, surely," Frexspar said. "I'm certain Nessarose would enjoy some time with her suitor in privacy."

Nessa's cheeks flamed. "In keeping with modesty."

"Naturally."

Elphaba snorted. "You plan to abandon her with him? He can't even…" she trailed off, eyes on Nessa's lap where her hands would have been folded. She drew a deep breath. "I am staying with my sister."

"Oh, Elphaba, don't be so dramatic. This is her future husband, after all."

"Yes, dear one," the queen's voice drifted melodically. "You have nothing to fear. He will handle your precious sister with care, upon our honor."

"But he-"

Fiyero interrupted, "I beg pardon, but if it is pleasing to Miss Nessarose, I have no argument with her charming sister joining us. We should make poor hosts indeed to entertain one at the expense of the other, particularly so soon after their arrival. If you are amenable…"

He turned to Nessa, who smiled. "How kind of you to think of my sister. Yes, of course. Her presence is a comfort in so unfamiliar a place."

"Poppycock. You're to be married," Frexspar's eyes narrowed in annoyance that he might be countermanded.

"But as yet, they are not." The king's voice carried more weight than usual. "It will be of little harm to have a chaperone, and my son is quite right in his estimation of our duties as hosts."

"Shall we, then?" Fiyero offered Elphaba a hand to stand, but she ignored it to stand on her own and moved to help Nessa up. He waited until they reached the hall to reach for Elphaba's cheek, but she dodged.

"What are you doing?"

"You have some bryla juice…" He caught her cheek, swiping his thumb at the corner of her mouth, "right…there."

"I'll thank you to keep your hands to yourself."

"And what? Have you lick it off? You would tempt a man to exhaustion."

"How rude!"

"But accurate, I believe." Fiyero flashed her a roguish grin, then spun back to Nessa, who was watching them uncomfortably. "Now. What to do…"

"Might we explore the grounds?" Nessa offered. "I find the mountains altogether breathtaking."

"Perhaps we'd better wait until evening. It's still quite warm even this early in the day."

"So we're to be trapped inside so long as there is sunlight?"

"Not at all. You'll adapt to the heat. But it might be a bit much for your first full day." Fiyero beamed suddenly. "I know." He sent them a shrewd look. "How are you ladies with getting dirty?"


	6. Molding

"Pottery?" Elphaba wrinkled her nose at Fiyero as he retrieved a lump of clay. "You want to make pottery?"

"Another pastime to connect with our history, Miss Elphaba. Provided you don't find it brutal as well."

She spun him to face her, the smallest bit smug at the surprise widening his eyes. "How do you expect Nessa to make pottery, you oaf?" she hissed through clenched teeth. "What is the matter with you?"

"Oh. Right." His eyes wandered blindly for a moment. "I'll think of something."

"You are utterly hopeless. How am I supposed to help a lummox like you learn to take care of my sister?" She stalked away, but he caught her arm.

"What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's clear you haven't the first idea yourself."

"But you'll help me?"

"Not much choice. Somebody has to."

"Thank you. Truly." His face carried such genuine gratitude, Elphaba's glare faltered.

"Of course. She's my sister." She turned away, but then thought better of it. "Don't say anything to Nessa. You'll embarrass her."

"You believe me so brainless?"

"I do. For such a charming prince, you're the epitome of clueless."

His grin grew astronomically. "You think I'm charming?"

"Ugh. Perfect example."

He handed her the clay, still grinning like a fool. "Miss Nessarose?" Her sister turned from her study of the varied pots and vases scattered along the wall. "Would you like to work with me?"

She approached cautiously, obviously struggling to explain the difficulty without expressing it. "I…"

"I'm a fair painter with direction, but a total disgrace in imagination. What shall I paint for you?" He sat beside a half-finished vase. "Don't be shy. I think you'll find I take instruction well."

Elphaba groaned at the wink he shot her across the room.

"What color first?"

The morning passed in the tune of Nessa's soft instructions and the hum of Fiyero's low answers that turned her all giggles and blushes. Elphaba sat apart and immersed herself in the clay. She'd refused the prince's offer of help, and now the vase more resembled a pony. She tilted her head. Perhaps an anteater.

Nessa burst into another round of laughter, and Elphaba looked up to see Fiyero's nose streaked with yellow paint. "You never specified where," he protested. "Perfection lies in the details."

"I certainly didn't mean your nose!"

He wagged his finger. "But you didn't say. I did exactly as instructed."

She succumbed to another bought of giggles and reflexively bent over, nearly toppling headfirst into their handiwork. Elphaba leapt up, but Fiyero had already caught her.

"Oh, see now you've gotten yourself painted as well," he chastised as he set her back on the stool with care. "What shall I do with you?"

Nessa sobered. "Have I really gotten paint on me?"

He craned his neck to inspect her shawl, and grimaced. Elphaba leaned over from behind to see a large handprint in bright yellow. "I see you lost no time in causing more trouble."

Her sister jumped in surprise, and Elphaba automatically steadied her. "Fabala! Good grief, you frightened me."

"And you accuse me of causing trouble." Fiyero smirked and nodded to the new muddied handprint on Nessa's shoulder and neck. "Or is this my fault also?"

"Give me a moment to think and, I can justify it."

He laughed. "Naturally." With a nod, he peered toward her amalgamation vase-pony-anteater. "Have you finished?"

"I concede defeat." She made a face at her handiwork, and Fiyero's smirk carried a private humor that somehow held both fondness and intimacy. She shifted away.

Nessa straightened, a displeased expression barely discernible. "How unlike you, Elphaba. Father will be pleased with this progress against your particular vice." He tilted his head, and she clarified, "My dear sister has struggled greatly with stubbornness and pride."

"If by struggled, you mean embraced whole-heartedly."

"Until now."

Elphaba sighed. "It's just a vase, Nessa."

"Still. The Unnamed God offers us miracles in all varieties, even amongst the seemingly insignificant, provided we seek His ways."

"Which I do not." She wiped her hands with a towel a bit more forcefully than required. "A poorly-attempted ceramic is not proof of divine intervention."

Fiyero cleared his throat awkwardly. "Shall I fire it for you?"

She blinked, reminded of his existence. "No, no. No need."

He nodded and disposed of the clump of clay without another word. An awkward silence fell as they headed back toward the girls' quarters.

When they arrived, Fiyero turned to Elphaba. "I'll send for a solvent to take care of that paint." His eyes danced over her head, the confidence evaporating. "When would you like to discuss the…book…we talked about earlier?"

She shook her head. That boy was hopeless. She set a hand on Nessa's shoulder. "I'll be right in. Why don't you find Frexspar?" Nessa's disapproval etched her face at the use of their father's given name, but she left without argument.

"I should find it reassuring that my sister's fiancé is so incapable of deceit, though it is not particularly helpful at the moment."

Fiyero relaxed into a smile. "Shall we address my lack of espionage as well then?"

"Wouldn't hurt."

He stepped closer. "But you will still help me, yes?"

"Yes."

He beamed and squeezed her hand. "A rare and pleasing word from your lips, Miss Elphaba."

She jerked her hand back. "I suppose we should meet soon. Just this morning you've managed to paint her, cover her in sticky juice, and send her headfirst into a wall."

"I am nothing if not fully-committed."

"Quit joking." She shoved his shoulder hard enough to rock him. "This isn't a game. You're going to responsible for her."

He sobered. "I know."

"Then quit being so airheaded. She needs you. She's going to depend on you for everything. Everything. You'll have to feed her, walk with her, keep her balanced."

"I know. I've seen you."

"You don't know anything," she snapped. "You'll have to bathe her, dress her, brush her hair, her teeth, anything that requires hands."

Fiyero blushed brightly. "I don't suppose we'll have much occasion to practice those before the wedding."

"This is a waste of time." She threw her head back in frustration. "I should have had Nanny come. You'd listen to her."

Fiyero caught her hands and held them tightly. "Elphaba, I am listening.

You can trust me. I'll do what you say. Whatever you think of me, I'm not heartless. I want to do right by her. By all of you."

"Then you shouldn't be taking my sister." She spun to face the wall. The regret was instantaneous, but she'd be loath to take it back now.

He set his hands on her shoulders. "I'm sorry. Truly."

She shook herself and pulled away. "Regardless, we have work to do. Let me settle Nessa with Frexspar, and we'll find somewhere to start. Their prayer study should keep her entertained long enough to not ask questions."

"Can I ask you, is she always so…judgmental of you?"

"Why? Are you criticizing her?"

"Just an observation."

Elphaba shrugged. "My sister is my father's daughter."

"Aren't you?"

"Biologically, yes. Ideologically, no. I should go. Nessa needs that paint cleaned off."

"Shall I wait for you here?"

"Find that paint solvent, and we'll see."

He grinned at her bossy tone. "Yes, ma'am."

She slipped through the door just as her father scoffed. "If she could manage to keep her mouth shut. I know you love your sister, but she's like the plague, destroying everything around her."

Elphaba threw back her shoulders and rounded the corner. "Come, Nessa, let's take care of that paint." She led the girl to the sink and scrubbed off the dried clay. The dress and shawl had to be replaced with a fresh set, and Elphaba folded them neatly by the door. "Fiyero's sent for a steward to clean the paint, so if they arrive before I'm back, please give him these."

Her father frowned. "_Prince _Fiyero, Elphaba. I'll not have your rudeness alienate him before your sister's engagement is even announced."

"Yes, yes. I'm atrocious." She waved him off. "I'll be back in an hour or so."

"Where do you think you're going?"

Elphaba rolled her eyes. "Slaughter some innocent children and carve them up for dinner. The usual. Isn't it time for your study, anyway?"

"Don't be impertinent."

"Highly unlikely." She ducked out through the door before he could question her further and swung into Fiyero.

"Alright. Let's go."

Her annoyance must have showed on her face. He tilted his head, brow wrinkled in concern. "Are you alright?"

"You should be far more worried about yourself."

The castle abounded with empty rooms, but not many had any sort of privacy. He led her up a long staircase to a wide doorway shrouded in shadow. With a secretive smile, he opened the door.

The room practically oozed with books: shelved along the walls, stacked on central tables, tumbled into piles on the floors. The word library felt wholly inadequate. If ink were gold, they'd be richer than the whole of Oz put together.

"Well…do you like it?"

His face had all the marking of a puppy holding a fetched ball, proud and prepared for praise.

"I remember Miss Nessarose said you liked books, so…"

"You…"

He matched her as she leaned in. "What?"

She snatched his ear, and he grimaced. "Don't think for one second you're going to charm me. I'm not some idiot girl swooning over you, and I'm not likely to be." She stabbed a finger into his chest. "And what on earth does this have to do with helping my sister? Shouldn't you be spending more time getting in her good graces? As if you could even begin to deserve her."

"I just thought…"

She snorted, "Not likely."

"What did I-" He sucked in a breath and pressed his lips together. "Miss Elphaba, I meant no offense. I simply wanted to do something kind for you. I am not trying to charm you, or deceive you, or harm you in any way. Are you that unaccustomed to goodwill?"

She crossed her arms, and as she hardened her face, his softened.

"I have no agenda other than to cultivate a friendship with you."

"Too bad." She charged through the door. "We aren't friends. We aren't going to be friends. I'm only helping you for Nessa's sake."

"Well, I am grateful regardless."

"You should be."

"I am." He held his hands out in a placating surrender. "And not just for the help. Other than your fixation on me as an enemy, I quite enjoy spending time with you. You're very funny, you know."

"Funny?"

"I suppose you'd prefer witty?" His patience had winded her anger, and she found herself softening despite herself. "Is it so terrible that I appreciate someone soon to be family? That I try to return that pleasantry?"

"Not _that_ terrible, I suppose."

"So, will you at least concede that someday, in the far off future, we might become friends?"

She pursed her lips. "No promises." But his hopeful face drew a smile from her against her will.


	7. Lessons

"Again."

Fiyero groaned. "To what purpose?"

"You're still doing it wrong."

"If I haven't learned it in the last twenty times, perhaps we should try something different." Elphaba shot him a look.

"Are you giving up?"

"No," his voice flat. "Let's try again."

She assumed Nessa's practiced gait. Fiyero propelled her forward with a hand on her back and slid it to her side to turn her.

She shook him off. "No. Again."

He hung his head.

"She has legs. She can walk. You don't have to manhandle her."

"Yes ma'am." He reset his hand to the small of her back.

"And don't pull her by her waist. You're only there for balance." They tried again, and she hissed at him, "Not so low. She's my sister, you baboon. I don't care if she's going to be your wife; I don't need to picture that."

"Sorry. I didn't mean-."

She turned to face him just as he tried to turn her in the opposite direction, and they landed in a jumble on the ground. "You're hopeless."

"You're a slave driver, you know that? This is what exhaustion gets you."

She arched an eyebrow. "Going to let me up any time soon?"

"Not planning on it, no." He smirked. "I finally have you at a disadvantage. A foreign feeling to be sure, but it's growing on me."

She scowled. "Get up. We have work to do if you're going to be able to walk with her this afternoon."

He groaned and flopped his head on her shoulder. "Slave driver." But he stumbled up and offered her a hand. "Let's try the same direction this time, shall we?"

"Well, stop trying to lead, then."

"That is the gentleman's role, as I recall."

"This isn't dancing, Fiyero. Would you want someone directing every move you made your whole life?"

He blinked at her, "I suppose not."

"Of course you wouldn't. So why should she?" She set Fiyero's hand back on her back. "Try again."

"Maybe you should just stay and take care of Nessa?" Elphaba's eyes turned cold, and he rushed, "No, not because I don't want to, but I'll never be as good as you are."

She conceded with a disparaging smirk.

"And she'd miss you, as I imagine you would her." He led her forward and held still as she turned to face him, providing her balance. "And I'd miss you, too."

"You've only known me a day." She turned back to face forward, and he moved with her.

"True. But I would." She stopped, and he stopped with her. "Could you? Stay?"

He caught her eyes, and she had to look away at the intensity in them. "That's it. You managed it." His brow furrowed. "Walked, turned, stopped. Congratulations." She gave him a slight smile, and his face broke into a beam. "Now we can work on sitting."

He groaned. "I thought I already did that? At breakfast?"

"Then it should be easy." She turned a chair and sat in it primly. "Help me up."

He held out a hand unthinking, and Elphaba shot him a glare. "Oh, right. Um…" He studied her from several angles, clearly clueless as how to proceed. He enveloped her in a bear hug to haul her up, and she shoved him off.

"No, you idiot. What did I just say about the manhandling?"

"Well?" He ran a hand through his hair. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Support and balance. That's your new mantra. Do you understand?

He pulled up a chair beside her. "It's break time."

"No, you have work to do."

"And I'll do it - after a break."

She glared. He smiled. She huffed. His smile widened. Frustrated, she jumped up and tugged at his arm, but he resisted easily. She latched onto his arm and threw all her strength into pulling him from the chair. He grunted and yanked back, toppling her onto his lap.

"Well." He caught her around the waist. "This is turning into a very entertaining break."

She shoved free and scrambled off. "If you're not going to work, I'm going to leave."

He grasped her wrist, trying unsuccessfully to hide a hurt look. "I'll tell you what, you tell me something about yourself, and I'll do something you want. If you want me to try again, I will."

"And why should I? Why would you want to know anything about me, anyway?"

"I'm curious. And I want us to be friends."

"A desire I do not share."

He smiled sadly. "Perhaps, but it's a painless way to get back to work, isn't it?"

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. I like books. There. That's something about me. Get up."

"Uh, uh, uh." He clucked his tongue. "I already knew that. Something new."

"I'm sixteen months older than Nessarose. Up you go."

He narrowed his eyes. "Fine, but you know that's not what I meant."

She shrugged and resumed her position on the edge of the chair.

"Who's Nanny?"

She shook her head. "I already told you something about me. Work."

He leaned down. "And I already did what you asked. I'm up, aren't I?" He straightened. "So, Nanny?"

"Our nanny, obviously." He lifted an eyebrow, unimpressed. "She was our mother's also. Tough woman, very strict, but she loves us."

"Where is she?"

"At home with our sick younger brother. I took her place, so I'm stuck training you."

"Are you?" His face fell. "I thought you wanted to help me."

"I do. Because I promised."

"So we should live up to that promise, I suppose." He sighed and set his hand at the small of her back again. "Is this right?"

The afternoon ebbed away before they knew it, and despite her criticisms, Fiyero had actually done fairly well. He'd wormed his way into a friendship she refused to foster, and she found herself bouncing from hot to cold with him enough to make herself dizzy.

He'd insisted on escorting her back, and though she fought conversation, he drew it out of her. "No, I don't believe you."

"It's true."

"You were born biting?"

"Oh, please. You've met me." She arched an eyebrow. "Is it really that hard to believe?"

He didn't answer as they'd reached her door. "Well, thank you for an entertaining afternoon."

She nodded, bit her lip, and offered a begrudging, "You didn't do so bad today. Perhaps you're not entirely impossible."

He grinned. "High praise from you, Miss Elphaba."

"Reluctant praise, you mean."

"Am I really so irritating?"

"I suppose not." She shifted away from him, anxious to distance herself from any charm he might persuade her with. "Goodbye."

"What do you mean?" He grinned. "We're here to collect your sister for our evening walk."

"Is it so late?" But she recognized the slant of the sun now. Where had the day gone? How could she have left Nessa all day? She shook her head. "You can walk with her now. You don't need me."

He stepped closer. "But I want you." Her head rocked up, eyes narrow. "Please? Come with us. I'm sure Nessa missed you after a day apart."

"You'd use my sister against me?"

"That depends." He flashed a smile. "Is it working?"

"Haven't you had enough of me for one day?"

"Impossible. I'd need at least a century to even begin to understand you, let alone tire of you."

"You're incorrigible, you know that?"

"True. But we're to be family, so you'd best get used to it."

She retreated to find Nessa, who sat near the door, clearly bored. "Fabala! Where have you been?"

"Oh, you know." Elphaba avoided her sister's eyes. "Wandering about. Fiyero's waiting outside if you're ready for that walk now."

"Yes, of course." Nessa fidgeted insecurely. "How do I look?"

"As beautiful as always, my pretty."

She led her sister out and stepped back as Fiyero greeted her. "Miss Nessarose, always a pleasure. Shall we?"

He set a hand shyly on her back as his eyes darted to Elphaba's. She couldn't suppress a proud smile as he guided Nessa along the corridors and through a small archway into a pretty outdoor garden.


	8. Chaperone

Fiyero guided Nessa over the cobbled stone with sufficient competence to appease Elphaba, and she drifted into a study of the vivid flowers brightened by the late afternoon sun.

The aisles were wide enough, but she hung back, imitating the Almas she'd seen chaperoning. Though they kept in conversation, the couple kept shooting glances at her. Constantly. It started to grate on her. Since when was she responsible for the success of a union she didn't support?

"What lovely irises." Nessa bent to smell the flower, and Fiyero offered a balancing hand chastely at her waist. He stared at Elphaba, uncertain, and she nodded, annoyed. Could they really not even manage a walk without her?

He tilted his head, confused by her irritation and made an excuse to leave Nessa. "What? Did I do it wrong?"

"You needn't look so terrified. My hope in helping you was not to make you so dependent on my approval."

"That's hardly fair. You spend all afternoon criticizing my 'brutish ways' and warning me not to hurt your sister. Are you so surprised that I'd worry about proving you right?"

"Just don't expect me to hold your hand on your wedding night," she sniped and spun to study the flowering cactus with more enthusiasm than she felt. He drew in a deep breath, but didn't speak.

They stood in that awkward silence for an eternity, her eyes trained on the spiny plant and his on her. Their intensity burned, and she only barely resisted the urge to fidget.

"Prince Fiyero? Where does this lead?" His eyes scorched her a moment longer, and then he turned to Nessa, freeing Elphaba's shoulders to droop.

He conducted the trio through to a large pasture where horses grazed on dry grass and loose stacks of hay. Nessa beamed and hurried to the fence. "They're so beautiful."

"Would you like to ride one?"

"Of course not," Elphaba blurted out, eyes fierce. She grabbed his arm. "Can I talk to you a moment?"

"Why?" He bent down to whisper, "I'd hate to be dependent on your approval."

"So you're going to put my sister in danger to punish me?"

"I see you still think so little of me. It's a horse, not a gunship full of pirates."

"She can't hold on, you idiot!"

"But I can." He turned and swung open the gate, leading her in.

"What is wrong with you?"

He ignored her, coaxing a horse to him. With deliberate calm, he trained his eyes on a pretty cream-colored mare. "It's just a horse, Elphaba. Perfectly safe." He set his hand on its neck, stroking calmly. "If you doubt me so much, why don't you see for yourself?"

"It's hardly the same."

"It worked this afternoon."

"Hush," she hissed, eyes darting back to Nessa, who was watching them curiously.

He swung up onto the horse easily despite the lack of saddle, and leaned down to her. "Coming?"

She grasped his hand and fumbled her way clumsily up after him. With a great deal of effort, she managed to work her leg across before she could topple to the ground, painfully aware of the distance she might fall. Why did a carriage never feel this high? The horses shuffled at her awkward ascent, and she clutched Fiyero desperately.

"Never been on a horse?" She glared at him as he chuckled.

"Oh, shut it."

"I hate to mention it, but…" he leaned in to whisper, "you're on backwards."

She chanced a look around her and found that she was indeed facing the rear of the horse, and by extension, Fiyero's smugly amused face. Her pride kept her silent for a long moment until she sighed. "How do I-"

"Here. Turn yourself around." He set her hands on his shoulders, but she eyed him skeptically. "Don't worry. I won't let you fall."

"You'd better not."

Despite his strong hands securing her waist, she feared for her life each second of her graceless scramble to right herself. Once she settled her skirts, she tangled her hands in the horse's long, thick mane, adamant she would never so stupidly agree to ride one of these again. "I can promise that won't happen with your sister."

"Yes, thank you," she barked, and he laughed.

He shook his head. "Only you."

"This thing is a death trap."

"Hardly." At her scoff, he settled a hand on her waist again. "You're fine. If you can spin around like that without me dropping you, I think I can handle a simple trot."

"What do you mean?" She twisted to look back at him with wide eyes. "You're going to make this thing run?"

"No, trot. Now hold still before I make myself a liar." He turned her shoulders forward. His free hand wrapped in the horses mane, and her spine stiffened in anticipation. Oh, Oz. What had she gotten herself into?

He gave the horses a squeeze with his legs, lightly digging in his heels, and the horse swayed forward. Elphaba nearly managed to stifle her cry, converting it to a barely audible squeak.

"Relax."

"How can I relax when you're trying to kill me?"

His laugh knocked against her back. "Oz, you're impossible."

"Is that it? This is revenge for this afternoon?"

His voice was soft, "Why would I want revenge? This is supposed to be fun."

"For whom?"

"No one is forcing you to do this."

She scoffed. "Except you, you mean."

"You're the one who insisted I prove its safety. I merely offered to demonstrate."

"That's not how I remember it."

He laughed. "Of course it's not."

They'd made it back to the gate, and Fiyero waved at Nessa. "We'll be right back," he called down. "Your sister insisted I prove your safety before you rode. Something about a death trap."

"My sister, the worrier." Nessarose shook her head. "She looks so pale. Are you sure it's safe?"

"Perfectly. When she returns in one piece, I'll take you for a ride, if you'd like."

She peered through her lashes becomingly. "Thank you, Prince Fiyero."

He smiled at her and returned his hand to the mane. "Ready?" Elphaba shook her head a furiously clear no, but he leaned in and kicked his heels.

Even prepared, the speed took her off-guard, and she clutched the horse's neck as if her life depended on it. Each stride bounced her in a most unsettling manner, and Elphaba tightened her legs to keep her balance. The horse responded immediately, speeding them up so that the wind whipped in her face.

"No, no," Fiyero's hand slipped to cover hers. "Don't squeeze you legs. You'll make her run faster."

"No. Not faster. Slow. Make it slow. Hurry!"

He pulled back so they slowed, and Elphaba forced herself to relax. "Better," he soothed. "That's it, relax…good, that's good. See, you're alright."

"I'm fine," she snapped.

"That's what I was trying to say." She could hear the smile in his voice, and she scowled at the horse's ears in place of his face.

After a half circuit of the wide arena, she'd calmed enough to acknowledge that Nessa would probably appreciate this. And she had to admit that if Fiyero didn't drop her, he would be fine with little Nessa.

She willed herself to let go of the mane as Nessa would have no such luxury, and Fiyero took her weight easily, wrapping his arm more securely around her waist. Now that she trusted she wouldn't fall, she indulged in the panoramic view of the sunlight trickling over the mountains.

It was so beautiful here. So different from the wasteland she'd believed. How could a dry, dusty desert be so breathtaking?

"Ready to go back?"

She fought against the sudden longing to follow a trail up the mountains and chase the reddening sun. "Of course. Get me off this thing."

"You don't fool me, you know." She glanced back, unwilling to turn enough to actually see him. "Don't worry. I won't give away your secret."

"How could you? There's no secret to give away."

"Yes ma'am. Certainly not."

He returned the horse to a quick trot, and this time she smiled as the wind whipped her hair. It wasn't so bad, really. Almost like flying, in a very bumpy way.

He brought them to the gate and slipped from the horse as easily as she got out of bed. He offered her help down, but she clambered off under her own power. Graceless, perhaps, but she refused to encourage his ego.

"So? Have I proved it safe?"

"I suppose." She set a hand on Nessa's shoulder lightly. "Just be careful."

He tilted a somber nod, ruined only by his knowing smirk. Without another word, he lifted Nessa up and swung onto the horse after her. She looked just as stiff, but within a few seconds, she leaned heavily against Fiyero. Elphaba smiled at the picture they made. Perhaps it wouldn't be so disastrous to have him as her brother-in-law.

As she thought it, she shook her head, forcibly reminded herself that likeable or not, that charming boy was taking away her sister. And though he'd asked her to stay, she doubted she could. No, Nessa's marriage was a thorough disaster if ever she'd known one.

"You alright, Miss? What could have a pretty girl like you frowning on a day like this?"

She whirled to face a tall, dark man about a head shorter than Fiyero. "Who are you?"

"Name's Aruc," he winked. "And you?"

"None of your business." She stepped away, studying the horse's arc across the arena. Nessa looked so radiant, it was impossible to suppress a smile.

"Well, Miss Noneofyourbusiness, it's lovely to meet you." She rolled her eyes and retreated farther, but he was not deterred. "What are you watching so intently?"

"Anything but you."

"Oh, come now. You don't even know me."

"Precisely."

"Well, how're we to rectify that if you won't speak to me for not knowing me yet?"

"It's a conundrum, to be sure."

He leaned against the gate, grinning. "So you're waiting for Prince Fiyero?" He nodded across the arena. "Have you met him yet, or will he also be caught in your conundrum?"

"Of course we've met, or why would I be waiting for them?"

"How do you know the prince?" he asked politely, but she turned a deliberate shoulder to block him from view.

"He's marrying my sister."

"Really? That's great." He leaned toward her back, "Means you're still free."

"But thoroughly uninterested." The pair rode up, and Elphaba headed straight through the gate as Fiyero lifted Nessa down.

"Oh, Elphaba, isn't the Unnamed God's marvelous with His creations? I have never felt so transported."

"I'm glad, my pretty." She wrapped an arm around her sister's waist and turned to see Fiyero grinning.

"Aruc! When did you arrive?"

"Not long ago. Did you think I would see you married here without me?"

Fiyero clutched the man's hand. "Your presence honors us."

"Not all of you, I'm afraid." Aruc tipped his head toward Elphaba. "I seem to have already offended your future sister-in-law."

"Oh, well, you are hardly alone in that."

"Have you also offended the lovely Miss Noneofyourbusiness then?"

Fiyeo tilted his head and met Elphaba's eyes. "Don't let her fool you. She's usually not half so annoyed as she lets on."

"Or you're just twice as dull as Master Aruc," Elphaba snorted.

"I like this," Aruc grinned. "I've gone from pariah to preferable without a word. I knew there was a reason I keep you around. So, Miss Noneofyourbusiness, shall I rescue you from the dullness he's so terribly inflicted on you?"

"Hardly. I believe my sister to be three times the companion of either of you."

"Perhaps." He met Nessa's curious stare, and she dropped her eyes. "She is most lovely as well, though unfortunately taken. A pleasure to meet you, Miss…?"

"Nessarose," Fiyero supplied, "and her sister is the enigmatic Miss Elphaba."

"Miss Nessarose, a lovely name for a lovely girl. Might I kiss your hand, or would your fiancée have to avenge your honor?"

She frowned, a blush staining her cheeks. "I…"

"You mayn't," Fiyero stepped in. "She's all mine, I'm afraid."

Elphaba squeezed an arm tight around Nessa's shoulders and glared at Aruc. He turned to her, surprised at the intensity of her hostility. "I know better than to try with Miss Noneofyourbusiness. I fear I would overstay my welcome with so lovely a hand."

"Indeed. Before you'd even arrived."

"So fiery!" He leaned in to Fiyero, his whisper not as quiet as he'd have professed. "You know what they say about temperamental girls. Passionate in all aspects, I should hope."

Fiyero colored, "Aruc, do not overstep."

"Right, right." He had the decency to look repentant. "I forget myself. But who wouldn't in the company of such stunning women? Where do these exotic beauties come from? And why are you so spoiled to have their company? I demand you share at once."

"Calm, Aruc. You're welcome to join us, of course. I was just showing them the grounds."

"Shall we all ride then? I would imagine that to be far more efficient."

Elphaba felt a little seasick at the thought of another round with the beast so soon, and she took a cautious step back. Fiyero caught her eye and smiled. "I think not. These ladies have just had their first ride bareback, and I fear we would overwhelm them to circuit the castle already."

"But we are well-positioned to overcome that. You can handle Miss Nessarose's horse, and I'll conduct Miss Noneofyourbusiness."

"That only serves for further motivation not to go," Elphaba snapped. "And I believe you know my proper name now, whether by my permission or not."

"Shall I use it then? As a gentleman, I only follow your leave."

She snorted, "Gentleman?" She spun to face Fiyero. "And he's a friend of yours?"

Fiyero laughed and moved subtly between the pair. "Well, he's not usually so quarrelsome."

"Me? Quarrelsome!" Aruc feigned offense. "I think you'll find I'm the picture of civility."

Fiyero leaned down to whisper before Elphaba could strike back, "You're only encouraging him." She crossed her arms.

"Well, I'm not riding with him. You can be sure of that."

"Don't worry. Even dull as I am, I managed to figure that out." She glared up at him, but his smile was kind. He turned back to the other man and clapped a hand on his back. "Aruc, my dear friend, do kindly shut it."

"You'd pick her over me?" Aruc held a hand to his heart in mock outrage. "Your longest and dearest friend?"

"In a heartbeat." Fiyero didn't so much as spare him a look as he flashed Nessa a charming smile. "Shall we continue?"


	9. Peacemaking

The presence of Aruc very nearly spoiled Elphaba's evening, but with Fiyero's intervention, he managed to keep a tolerable distance. She walked with Nessarose, admiring the beautiful gardens all framed by the majestic mountains and clear sky.

"Are you staying until the wedding, then?"

In the stillness disrupted only by the crunch of gravel beneath her feet, she couldn't help but eavesdrop on the men's conversation.

"Much of it, yes. I have some local business to attend to, what with my long absence, but you'll have plenty of time to be bothered by me, no worry." Aruc shot her wink, and she scowled.

"Master Aruc is quite handsome," Nessa whispered, and Elphaba blinked down at her. "I mean, so is Prince Fiyero, but…perhaps you hadn't be so thorny."

"Are you playing matchmaker, sister?"

"If you married him, we could live near each other after all."

"Isn't it awful enough that you're being married off without planning my incarceration as well?" Elphaba wrinkled her nose. "Imagine me, married. And to that obnoxiously rude boor no less." She fought a shudder.

"Planning our lives together already, cupcake?" Aruc dropped an arm around her shoulders. "How sweet. Will we have many children?" He eyed her lewdly. "Best to get started soon, I think."

Elphaba whirled on him, gripping his arm and twisting it behind him. "Touch me again, and I'll break it."

"What did I say, Fiyero? Feisty."

She snarled, "Cretin."

Fiyero stilled her wrist with a firm hand. "Elphaba, please." She flung the arm away as if leprous and stormed ahead a good twenty paces. "Aruc, you have to stop pestering her."

"Why?"

"It's ill-mannered. And she wouldn't hesitate to really break it. Then where would we be?"

"Oh, she only caught me off guard. It's not as if she's too strong to fight off." The prince lifted an eyebrow, and Aruc colored even as his chin jutted forward. "Why, Fiyero, don't tell me you're frightened of a woman."

Elphaba spun on her heels, fire in her eyes, prepared to show him exactly why he should be frightened of her when Fiyero caught her around the waist. He pulled her back, a hand clamped over her mouth.

"Aruc, why don't you show Nessarose the west wall? It should be nearing sunset, and we'll meet you there momentarily." He paused to glare back at his friend. "That is, if you can manage to be polite to my fiancée, at least."

Aruc looked genuinely apologetic. "Of course. I didn't…"

Fiyero sighed and nodded, pulling Elphaba off in the opposite direction. The other pair was long out of sight before he relented. "Can I let go, or will you go running back to murder him?"

Her shrug was sharp.

"Didn't I warn you not to react? He's just goading you. He doesn't mean it."

"Then he shouldn't say it," Elphaba hissed. "And you shouldn't be sending him off alone with my sister."

"She's fine, Elphaba." He caught her before she could shove past him. "He's not really so bad, and she's not nearly so offendable."

"Are you saying this is my fault?"

"No." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm saying I need you both to stop, and to do that, you're going to have to calm down."

"Why don't you make him stop?"

"He will." Fiyero clasped her hand and towed her farther through the rows of poppies as if distance would soothe her. "Trust me, I know him. He's all talk and teasing, but he means well. He just wants to rile you, not actually upset you."

She snorted.

"I do apologize for his behavior."

"And Aruc?"

"Will apologize to you also." The determined tone in Fiyero's voice mollified Elphaba enough to stop dragging in the opposite direction. "Alright?"

"We'll see."

"For what it's worth, Aruc only annoys people he likes. As much as he's annoyed you, I think he may be hopelessly infatuated already."

"Ugh. I'd sooner marry swine than him."

Fiyero laughed. "Would you? That would make for some interesting children."

"Oh, shut up." But her rebuke lacked bite.

"So other than Aruc, how do you mind the evening?"

"It's alright." She let him redirect her, calming as she observed the vibrant fauna. "Your gardens are very beautiful."

He tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. "I'm pleased you like them."

"You don't have to babysit me, you know."

"You're not a chore, Elphaba." He set his other hand atop hers. "I enjoy your company."

"Nessa must be missing you."

"Doubtful. Certainly not more than she is you." Elphaba couldn't argue, and she said nothing as Fiyero chuckled. "Besides, Aruc is probably charming her as we speak."

She frowned. "Then you should hurry."

"Why? Do you think I have something to fear from him?"

"Not in the slightest," Elphaba replied before she caught the trap. She slapped his arm lightly. "You cad! You should be ashamed."

"Should I?"

"That was a dirty trick. I didn't mean to compliment you."

He leaned down. "With such miserly praise, one must take what he can get."

"Men," she sighed heavily and shook her head. "Are you all so vain and insecure?"

"Most certainly." He plucked a poppy and held it to her. "And women are so immune to flattery?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Careful, or I shall have to break your arm as well."

"I've offended you?"

"No." She smiled. "Not yet, at least."

"That's higher praise than the other, I think." He tucked the neglected poppy in her hand. "You didn't answer my other question, though that's becoming quite the norm for us, isn't it?"

"I shan't answer that, either. If I say no, I'm a liar, and if I say yes, I'm contradictory."

"You, my dear, are always contradictory." The gentle affection in his endearment brought a strong rush of guilt as she remembered her resolution. She pulled away and crossed her arms in front of her, the poppy fluttering to the ground. He frowned. "Now I _have_ offended."

"No."

He stepped in front of her and caught her chin. "You lie terribly, Miss Elphaba."

"Perhaps you have a guilty conscience." But she avoided his eyes. "Is there something you need to confess?"

"You tell me."

"How should I know what you ought to confess?"

"Then tell me what offended."

"I said it already - nothing." She shifted away from him, but he caught her arm to hold her still. His hand on her chin tilted her face back toward his.

"Elphaba, why won't you look at me?"

Her eyes darted to his and back away. "I don't know what you mean."

He sighed in frustration and dropped his hands. She felt a strum of remorse at his hurt, but she held steady. The silence drew long. He bent and reclaimed the poppy from the ground, twirling the stem. She eyed the spinning petals, and he dipped to catch her gaze with a soft, searching expression.

"I'm sorry," she whispered before she caught herself, and she rushed a half-sincere, "About Aruc. I shouldn't have hurt his arm."

"More likely his pride." Fiyero held out his hand, and she took it reluctantly. With a gentle squeeze, he said, "And are you proud?"

She tilted her head at his non sequitur.

"Did I do alright with your sister, or am I still hopeless?"

"Oh, certainly hopeless." She smiled at him. "But less so."

"Will you help me again tomorrow? I'm sure, slave driver that you are, there's more for you to drill in me."

She nodded and walked ahead, but he tugged her back.

"Thank you. For helping." He brushed his fingertips lightly over her cheek and tucked the poppy behind her ear. She blushed as he beamed at her. "It's very becoming on you."

"Then it's the last thing I need with that lecher around." She reached to remove it, but he stilled her hand.

"Aruc? He's not so bad."

She eyed him suspiciously. "For a prince, you have astonishingly terrible judgment at times, did you know that?"

He grinned. "Shall we rejoin them?" He nodded toward the reddening sun. "I shouldn't steal you for the entire sunset."

"Oz knows if Nessa's even still alive left that long with him. Hopefully he didn't topple her down the mountain."

"We're already at the bottom."

"Technicalities."

She pulled him forward, and he laughed at her. "Eager, are we? Careful, or you might give Aruc hope."

"You bite your tongue."

Elphaba felt oddly carefree, racing through the rows of flowers and towing Fiyero behind her. She chanced a twirl, and he caught her halfway. "Forward, you. No more escape today."

"As if I needed to escape." But she slowed to a walk, less intent on their arrival as she imagined more time with that oaf.

"True. I have to admit, I'm impressed. Aruc's not normally so easily disarmed." He adopted a teasing look. "Particularly by a helpless girl."

"Oh, helpless girl, eh?" She spun on him, and in a matter of seconds had his hands pinned them behind his back. "And what does that make you?"

"Willingly caught?" He stared down at her, grinning. "Do you really believe I would be so unchivalrous as to fight a girl?"

She narrowed her eyes. "So you'll manhandle me, but not fight me?"

"Precisely." He slipped his hands from her grip and spun her back toward the castle. "But you're stalling, and the sunset is not."

They turned the corner, and Elphaba gasped. "Oz."

If she'd thought the day and the night glorious, this spectacular union shattered her conceptions. The dying sun streaked the sky with colors so vivid, her lungs literally could not conduct oxygen. She froze, and Fiyero set his hands atop her shoulders, understanding her awe-filled paralysis.

Her vision could not contain the beauty that drenched the landscape. It felt too magnanimous, too ubiquitous, and yet still so close that its power seemed to radiate through her. If ever she'd contemplated the existence of a deity, this moment nearly convinced her.

"How do you live here?" she breathed. "How do you see this every day? Or doesn't it affect you after this long?"

Fiyero sighed to her hair. "True beauty is eternal, Elphaba. Like love – unfading and unrelenting. As powerful in each moment as the one of its realization."

She scoffed. "Love is a myth."

"It's not," he whispered. "Any more than beauty. Look at that and tell me it's impossible."

She blinked and shook her head. "Myth," she repeated with such lackluster she couldn't even have fully convinced herself. Fiyero smiled, but didn't argue.


	10. Devout

"There you are," Aruc jogged up, not the least affected by his previous banishment. "I'd begun to wonder if you hadn't absconded with that gorgeous firecracker just to keep her to yourself."

"She resisted." Fiyero shrugged, and Elphaba gave him a playful shove.

"Not true!"

"Did you or did you not try to hold me prisoner?"

"No!" She ruined her pout with a smirk. "There was no try about it."

He chucked her chin. "I seem to recall a pretty easy escape."

"Then why'd it take so long?" Aruc challenged with a smirk and then looped an arm around her shoulders. "Either way, I'm thrilled you're back. Not that your sister isn't lovely company."

Elphaba shrugged him off.

"Please don't be cross. This drought of your presence has already instilled me with the deepest of regret."

"Is that an apology?"

He dipped in a low bow. "Of the greatest sincerity."

"Sounds like nothing more than a bunch of pretty words."

He raised her hand to her lips. "What's the saying – pretty words for a pretty girl?" She rolled her eyes. "Were you wearing that flower before? It's very becoming on you."

She fingered the poppy, suddenly embarrassed. "That's what Fiyero said."

Aruc sent the prince an appraising look. "Did he now?"

"Catch more flies with honey..." Fiyero swaggered past them to squeeze his fiancée's shoulder.

Nessa beamed up at him and then back at her sister. "Isn't it beautiful?" She nodded toward the sunset, the reds faded to an ethereal purple.

Elphaba twined her arms around the girl's waist, grinning. "And you'll get to live here."

"You, too, if you want." Fiyero whispered from behind her.

For the slimmest of moments, Elphaba allowed herself to believe him. She could stay. Nessa would be happily married to a good man with Elphaba to make sure she was cared for. A foreign peace settled over her that had nothing to do with the oncoming night.

"In all seriousness, I am deeply sorry about before, Miss Elphaba. It was inexcusable," Aruc offered, and this charitable version of herself bestowed him with a blissful smile and a dismissive wave. "Oh, Oz help me." He shoved Fiyero hard enough to rock him. "Have you seen this girl smile?"

Fiyero laughed.

"Be still my heart!"

Elphaba shifted, uncomfortable with the attention. "Not as pretty as Nessa's."

"Sisters." Aruc shook his head. "Their mother must have been Lurline herself."

Nessa frowned. "Lurline is not real. That is merely a distraction from the true Unnamed God."

He blinked, stunned by the ferocity of her admonishment. Sweet as a kitten, Nessa could unleash her claws in a flash over her faith. "Please pardon. I meant no offense."

"Ignorance is not offensive, Master Aruc," she assured him. "I would be happy to share the tenants of truth with you."

"I think I've already caused enough trouble tonight without discussing theology."

"It is never wrong to proclaim the truth."

"Oh, Nessa," Elphaba sighed. "Not now. Look at the sunset."

Her sister huffed. "And you, Prince Fiyero? Are you devout?"

Fiyero looked as if he'd rather have hot coals poured on his head than answer. "I believe…" He studied the sky. "I believe there is a greater purpose for us, a higher calling that inspires us to noble and better acts than we might on our own."

His answer sidestepped neatly with such a vague hint at meaning that Elphaba felt the need to ask, "Do you?"

He smiled down at her and turned back to the sky. "How can you not?"

A silence fell as Nessa clearly wanted to push without being impolite. Aruc, unsettled, shifted to Fiyero's opposite side as if his friend were a human shield. They fidgeted, shot furtive glances, and barely held their tongues.

The anxious energy tugged away Elphaba's serene contentment, and she edged toward Fiyero, the only one who'd kept a sense of calm.

"Cold already? It's not even dark yet."

"Not cold," she whispered back. "Just avoiding all the cranky." He set a hand on her shoulder, warm and solid.

"Yes, we certainly wouldn't want you cranky again."

She huffed. "That was nothing. You should see me upset."

"I sincerely doubt I would like that." He squeezed her shoulder lightly and turned to the others. "Shall we? They'll be sending for dinner soon, I'm sure."

As if on cue, a steward crept from the lengthening shadows. Fiyero nodded at the man, and he dissolved again.

"Will you be joining us?"

Aruc shook his head. "Not tonight. Though I might impose upon your hospitality soon now that I know what lovely creatures you're hiding here."

"Tomorrow, then. I insist." He clasped the shorter man's hand, and they squeezed each other's shoulder. "Until then."

"Goodnight, lovely, taken Miss Nessarose." Aruc tipped his head and received a gracious nod back. "Goodnight, fiery Miss Elphaba." He caught her hand and pressed a lingering kiss to the back of it. "Sweet dreams, ladies. I assure you, I shall have them after meeting such angels."

She snorted. "Now that's a word I've never been called."

With a second goodbye, Fiyero shooed the amorous fool off before the dark set in. "Now then. Who's hungry?"

He led the girls in to dinner with considerably more confidence than their first night, taking pains to lead and sit Nessa according to his instructions. He turned to Elphaba - and sighed to find her already in the chair to the left.

He leaned down, his lips inches from her ear. "You know, that's hardly fair."

She fluttered her eyes at him smugly.

"I have half a mind to haul you up so I can seat you properly."

"That would hardly be hospitable."

"Debatable." He slipped back to his seat as Elphaba fought a grin. Then he addressed his parents with formality for the benefit of their guests. "If it's amenable, Master Aruc will be joining us for dinner tomorrow."

"Very good." The king nodded. "He has arrived for the engagement?"

"Yes, sir."

"Lovely," the queen's voice chimed. "It has been too long." She turned to Frex. "Master Aruc is a delight."

"You invited him to stay, of course."

Fiyero nodded obediently to the king. "He sends his regrets. Perhaps he will relent tomorrow. These enchanting ladies will be most persuasive, I'm certain."

"Did he meet them, then?"

She swallowed a laugh, and Fiyero shot her a chastising grin. "In fact, he seemed quite taken with Miss Elphaba."

"Oh, you spiteful little…" She narrowed her eyes at him, but caught herself in time.

"Elphaba?" Her father shot her a double take when he saw the poppy propped behind her ear, and she blushed, snatching the flower away and hiding it in her lap.

The rest of dinner passed without incident. She let Fiyero escort Nessa to better hide her own yawns. When at last they reached the room, she stumbled almost gleefully toward the door and the sleep offered within.

"Miss Elphaba, the book?"

She blinked back at him until comprehension dawned on her. "Haven't we already discussed the book enough for one day?"

"What book?" Nessa asked. "Is that where you were this afternoon?"

"I found the library."

"Ah."

She didn't even struggle to hide her yawn. "Talk later. Sleep now."

"Tired already?" Fiyero teased. "The night is young."

"Not all of us have a prince's constitution."

"Why do I think I've been insulted?"

"If you can't work it out, I shall explain it in the morning. Night." She started forward, but he caught her hand. "Oz, you're making me wish I'd never agreed to discuss this _book_ at all."

"One minute. Please."

Nessa glanced from one to the other. "Should I read this book, too? If it's really that good…"

"What is going on?" Frexspar appeared in the doorway, grouchy as ever.

"They're discussing a book," Nessa supplied. "It must be fascinating."

Frexspar shepherded the girls through the doorway. "No book worth discussing this late unless it's the Good Book. My apologies, Prince Fiyero, but the girls should be getting to bed."

"Certainly sir, but if I might have a moment with Miss Elphaba-"

"Elphaba? Whatever for? Or did you mean Nessarose?"

Elphaba sighed. "I'll be back in a moment."

"No. I'll not have you off causing more trouble for the prince tonight." Frexspar glared at her. "Whatever she's done, we'll handle it in the morning. Trust me, she'll get her due punishment. With your pardon, then-"

Fiyero drew himself up to full height. "My apologies, sir, but I would most courteously request a moment with your eldest daughter." Despite the increased civility, he managed a more commanding presence than she thought him capable of. Frexspar seemed to suddenly realize to whom he was talking.

Her father nodded.

Elphaba slipped out and shut the door rather obviously in his face. She pulled Fiyero halfway down the hall.

"That was subtle."

Fiyero ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry, he just…frustrates me."

"Not used to getting told no?" Elphaba teased, but Fiyero didn't smile.

"Is he always so hostile to you?"

"Sh," she pointed back toward the door. "As much as he preaches against it, he's not above eavesdropping. Besides, we only have a minute. What do you want?"

"You said tomorrow, right?" His eyes held an insecurity so at odds with the command of thirty seconds ago, and she rolled her eyes.

"I said we would. Oz, what do you think: I'll ride off in a carriage overnight?"

"How?" She stared at him pointedly, and he clarified. "How are we going to get away to…discuss our book?"

"Okay, enough with the book."

"Well, you said he was listening," he hissed, stepping close. "This is going nothing like how I'd planned."

"I can see that."

"I think we should involve Aruc." She stepped back, enumerating mentally the numerous points of his idiocy. "Hear me out. You don't want Nessa to know, and we don't want to disappear and abandon her again. I feel bad enough about neglecting her today."

"_You_ do? She's my sister."

"And she's my guest. My people are very particular about the obligations of a host." Elphaba took in his seriousness, and conceded. "If we tell him, Aruc can entertain her while you tutor me."

"And he would do this?"

"Of course."

"He didn't look too thrilled with her zealotry today. And how do we know he won't tell Nessa?"

Fiyero crossed his arms. "Aruc is my friend. He'll help us."

"I don't like it," she announced needlessly. She paced. "I don't trust him."

"You didn't trust me, either."

She lifted an eyebrow. "What says I do now?"

"Elphaba, come on. It's the best long term solution." He flashed a smile. "Better than the discussing books excuse, huh?"

"Lighting my hair on fire is a better solution than the books excuse." She weighed her options, and found them depressingly limited. "Fine. We can think about it."

"Does that mean yes?"

"We'll see."

"So, maybe?"

"Maybe."

"You'll tell me tomorrow what you decide?"

She sighed. "Yes."

"Finally." He grinned and brought her hand to his lips. "Rare and pleasing." He winked, and repeated the words.

"You're obnoxious."

"And charming, or so you say."

"And irritating," she sneered without fire.

"Don't forget dull."

"How could I?"

He caught sight of the poppy still tucked against her palm, and he grinned. "It looks more becoming on you, Miss Elphaba, than your dress." He plucked the flower away and tucked it back behind her ear. "Goodnight, my partner in espionage."

"Ugh. If I am, then I am definitely the brains of the operation."

He grinned back at her before disappearing down the hall. With a sigh, she headed in to face the inquisition separating her from her bed.


	11. Struggles

The morning trickled by with an anxious presence to which Nessa remained oblivious as they meandered about the castle, waiting for Aruc. It was well after noon when he arrived, full of exuberance. "Thank Oz, they weren't a hallucination. Ladies, a marvelous day to you both."

"What am I, chopped liver?" Fiyero teased, clasping the man's hand. "My mother is anxious to see you. She insists you join us for dinner tonight."

"I'd be honored."

"Might I borrow you a moment?"

He led Aruc off to discuss their plan, and Elphaba set an arm around Nessa's trim waist. "So, my pretty, pleased with your new home?"

"I suppose so."

"You sound unconvinced. I thought you were quite the admirer."

"I find the lack of worship here most troubling," she confessed.

"Are you surprised?"

"I hadn't considered it, I guess. But the Unnamed God challenges us to reach all with his message. Perhaps I shall be a light of truth to this savage nation."

"You think them savage?"

"Don't you? I thought you accused Prince Fiyero of the same when he confessed his hunting."

"Yes." Elphaba shifted. Logically, nothing had changed, so why did she find Nessa's condemnation so unsettling? The boys' return spared her from further self-examination. Aruc flashed her a cheeky grin, and her anxiety returned in full force, further amplified when Fiyero peeked at her with an apologetic face. "What?"

"Nothing," Aruc grinned. "Who's up for a walk? I feel the need for fresh air."

"That's sounds lovely," Nessa peered up at Fiyero. "Do you think it is advisable in this heat?"

"If you follow the shade, you should be fine." He turned to Elphaba. "Shall I show you to the library again? I've some work to finish there, but you're welcome."

"Perhaps you could show me that book," Nessa said, but Aruc shook a finger.

"You'd abandon me so soon?"

"Oh, well, shouldn't we all…"

Elphaba took a step back. "Maybe after your walk."

"Of course." He flashed that knowing smile again. "We'll meet you there."

Nessa hesitated, but Elphaba leaned down to whisper, "This seems a perfect opportunity to begin your lighting."

"Do you think?"

"What is it you say: the Unnamed God provides?"

Her sister frowned, "Elphaba, don't be blasphemous. Are you sincere?"

"It's not for me to question divinity."

"Ladies," Aruc interrupted, "you needn't discuss your attraction for me in whispers. Please, share."

Elphaba rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself, Aruc - though I suppose you must for lack of others."

"You wound me!" He winked. "Careful, or I'll demand a kiss in medicine."

"Come," Fiyero laughed, "let's go before I have to pull you two apart again."

"If only," Aruc called after them, and Fiyero's hand on her back was all that kept her from racing back with a scathing retort.

Once out of sight, she asked, "Are you sure she'll be alright with him?"

"Perfectly safe. I even gave him a primer on what I learned yesterday." He grinned at her expression. "What, surprised I learned something?"

"Now I'm truly terrified for her safety." But her words cared no sting. She found it refreshingly surprising he had been so thoughtful. "Do you think it wise they meet us in the library? What if they're back before we expect?"

"Aruc will bring them past the turret so we can see them from the window. Regardless, the stairs are noisy enough to catch our attention."

"Stairs! Oh, I forgot about the stairs. How will Nessa-"

"So we'll meet them at the bottom and claim coincidence." He caught her arm and turned her to face him. "Stop worrying. I said you could trust me, and I meant it."

Elphaba huffed.

"Besides, you're going to be angry enough at me when you find Aruc's price."

She eyed him suspiciously. "Why?"

"He wants to trade: time alone with Nessa for time alone with you."

"And you said…?"

"He had to behave himself." Fiyero caught her before she could stomp away. "And he will. Or I'll make him." She shook her head, repressing the idiotic names she wanted to call him. "I think you already demonstrated that you can handle him. Believe me, if he tries anything improper, he will live to regret it. I swear. But Aruc is a gentleman. You've nothing to fear."

"It's not fear; it's disgust." She sighed. "So I'm to suffer with Aruc for the 'privilege' of teaching you?"

"Am I such a burden?" Her annoyance left no room for his reassurance. "What today, then, slave driver?"

"Nessa likes to read, though unfortunately nothing of quality. You should hold it here, not too far, but not too close." Ignoring the book floating between them, Fiyero turned to her.

"What else does she like?"

"Singing, praying, I don't know. Anyway, she'll let you know when to turn the page, but you have to be listening for it. She won't say it loud."

"Do you read together often?"

"Does it matter?"

"I'm curious," he shrugged. "What do you usually do, besides charming strangers and humbling princes?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Make sure you look up periodically to see if she's still interested. Reading makes Nessa sleepy."

"How long do you read for?"

She hesitated, but his question bore enough validity to deserve an answer. "A couple hours before Nessa loses interest."

"And you?" She stared. "You're the avid reader, yes?"

"And that's your business how?"

"Of course. I beg your pardon." He tried to soften her with a gentle smile. "I merely wondered what to do once she'd grown tired. Does she sleep while you read then?"

She scrutinized him as she tried to decide whether to call him on his game. "Sometimes."

"And others?"

"Not."

He flashed another smile. "I see."

She drew a measured breath. "Can we continue please?"

"Did we stop?" She rolled her eyes, and he saw at last the hidden frustration. His teasing turned to sobriety. "Have I offended you again?"

"Your incompetence is more bothersome than offensive."

"Incompetence I've demonstrated how, precisely? Since our lesson yesterday."

"You can tell she's done by-"

He took the book and closed it. "Are you really this cross about Aruc? I can talk to him again."

"It's fine. It's done. Let's work."

"Can't you tell me-"

"Just give me the-" She reached across him to snatch the book, but he caught her wrist. She forcefully shook him off.

"What is the matter with you?"

"Fine, you want to talk? What makes you think you're good enough for my sister?"

"Am I not?" She scoffed. "What have I done that's so terrible?"

"Nothing." She moved to the window to distance herself from him. "It's not your fault my sister is above you."

He stood behind her. "Elphaba…"

"Don't let it trouble you. I doubt anyone is good enough to deserve her."

"I'd like to try."

She spun to face him. "Why should she? Sent off with strangers, dismissed and traded about like a collection card. What kind of life is that?"

"What are you talking about? When have I…?" She lifted her eyebrows, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Aruc is a friend. A close friend. I'd never treat her so carelessly. Nor anyone."

She laughed coldly. "Oh yes, you're the epitome of careful. Except for walls, paint, horses…"

"You'd have me, what, lock her in a tower to keep her safe? Then you'd accuse me of trapping her!" She shrugged. "Haven't I demonstrated my intentions by now? I want to do right by her. You know that."

"But you can't."

"Why? What about me is so inferior, so undeserving?"

"You don't love her."

Elphaba's glare did not waver, but his face softened. "I don't know her, yet. But I want to love her."

"Wanting doesn't make it so."

He caught her hand. For a long, silent moment he contemplated his words, his fingers drifting in small circles over her knuckles. "I won't take your place, Elphaba. No one can love your sister like you do. I'm not taking her from you."

"You are," she snapped. "And Nessa deserves better. You shouldn't marry her if you don't love her."

"My marriage to your sister is not a choice that was taken lightly. But when Sarima- my fiancée, pledged at birth," he clarified at her questioning expression. "But she passed away before she reached a suitable age, and the politics of my people are complex. Any wife I marry from my homeland would threaten civil war."

She snorted. "Oh, yes, I'm sure a mail-order stranger is better."

"An outsider will rock them, yes, but with less disastrous results. It's the only way to avoid bloodshed."

"So don't marry."

He leveled a disappointed look that had her blushing. "I must marry, Elphaba. I'm the crown prince and only heir."

"So you'd use my sister to satisfy your own political agenda?" she accused. "She's to be miserable so you can stay in power?"

Fiyero ran a hand through his hair. "It's my duty to protect my people. Though I'd hardly desire her to be miserable. She did consent, of her own free volition."

"Only because she thinks she's a burden. Which she is not," Elphaba snapped out the last with an accusatory glare.

"Of course not. But she is not an unwilling captive, nor I a heartless villain. Show me how I might make my future wife happy, and I'll do what I can to make it happen."

Elphaba studied him. His eyes beamed sincerity beyond any skepticism. With a deep sigh, she tossed a book at him and dropped back to the sofa. He lifted the book a careful distance away. "Like this?"

She nodded.

He waited a long moment before he chanced, "So she likes to sing?"

Another nod.

"And you? Do you like to sing?"

"That has nothing to do with Nessa."

"I told you. I'd like a friendship with you, also."

"And I do not. How can you be this stupid?" She crossed her arms more in defense than anger.

"We're to be family, Elphaba. You can't ask me not to care for you."

"I can."

His smile tightened at her obstinacy. "Then we shall have a difficult time, I fear, as I have no intention of stopping."

She huffed and tore her eyes away from his before they could persuade her a second time, only to see the edge of Aruc's cloak disappear through the open doorway. "See what you've done? You've wasted the whole lesson with your talk. Now I've got to humor your loathsome friend for nothing."

She darted toward the door to meet them before Nessa had to tackle the stairs, but Fiyero stepped in her path. "Elphaba." His soothing voice annoyed her further, and she pushed him to get by.

"Move."

"It pains me to see you this upset with no purpose."

"I've plenty of purpose," she barked back, fumbling her way past him to the landing. He swerved back into her path.

"I'm not the enemy."

"Then get out of my way."

He started to argue, but stepped back as they heard the sharp staccato of footsteps on the hardwood.

"We're late. Come on." She latched on his arm and yanked him down the stairs. "Nessa! You're back."

"Finished your work then?" Aruc nodded toward Fiyero.

"No, but it can keep till tomorrow if it must."

The others continued a frivolous conversation on which she couldn't force herself to concentrate. Fiyero sought her eyes, but despite his persistence, she kept them sullenly away. This was all his fault, and she'd be damned if she'd make him feel better about it. The tension between them grew. Inch by inch, smothering the air from the room. She fidgeted. What right did he have to look so upset? He was the one who got Nessa.

They turned the corner, and she pulled him back. He jerked his head up, surprised.

"Don't."

He searched the air above her head for some answer. "What have I done now?"

"Don't look so hurt."

"You spend an hour listing each of my faults, but I mayn't look hurt? How should I look?"

"Why does my opinion matter, anyway? You should care more about Nessa's. She's your fiancée." Fiyero shook his head and started toward the others. Elphaba yanked him back. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"I am unable to speak without offending you, so I won't."

"You'll just ignore me?"

"No, I shall allow you to ignore me."

"Why are you being so difficult?"

"Me?" The force of his gaze fell on her with such weight, she nearly staggered. "You-" He pressed his lips in a thin white line. "I apologize."

She narrowed her eyes. "You apologize? Even though you clearly don't agree."

"I'm not fighting with you, Elphaba. If you insist on continuing this, you'll have to continue on your own."

She let out a frustrated breath. "So you're so immune to emotion, then? Fantastic husband you'll make."

He lashed out a hand, and she flinched. But it landed behind her, grasping the wall, and he backed her into it. "Not immune," he growled. "Struggling to be polite."

"Sorry it's such a struggle for you."

His eyes snapped to hers, then dropped to her lips as he willed himself to calm. She found herself infected by his tension instead. Her heart pounded as his slowed, and at long last, he whispered, "No."

He drew a hand down her cheek as she shivered. "No?"

"It's not so hard to be kind to you. Despite your best attempts otherwise." His thumb smoothed circles on her jaw. The shift in his frustration had left her unbalanced, dazed. "No, Elphaba. You won't get rid of me so easily." He stepped back. "Fight if you must. But I will care for you. And sooner or later, you will trust me."


	12. Dinner

They reached the dining room, and Aruc's eyes darted from Elphaba to the chair and back again. "Good look seating that one," Fiyero hid his tension with an ease she envied. "She's faster than an ostrich and five times as stubborn."

"Are ostriches stubborn?"

"Oh, when it suits them."

"We'll see," Aruc boasted. "She's never had me to contend with."

The boys escorted them in, and Fiyero led Nessa to her usual seat. Elphaba veered away from him, only to find Aruc between her and the left seat. She spun back, to face Fiyero at the right one - waiting. Each boy grinned, certain she'd pick theirs. Ugh, men. She stalked toward Fiyero, and Aruc's grin fell. Until Elphaba passed him and dropped into the empty chair on his right intended for Aruc.

She set her napkin in her lap. "So what's for dinner?"

Fiyero leaned down. "I've graduated, then? I'm surprised you trust me to feed her after extolling my faults before."

Damn. He'd distracted her again. She blushed. "Fine, trade me seats."

"On one condition. Stop forcing yourself to hate me."

"It comes quite naturally, I'm afraid."

He stood, but before they could exchange, their parents paraded in. Aruc stood as well, accepting the Queen's warm greetings, and Elphaba tried to move while the attention was elsewhere.

Frexspar frowned at her. "Elphaba, you needn't stand. Men stand to be polite." She didn't sit, and he sighed in annoyance. "You're not a man."

"I am aware." She colored as everyone's attention settled on her. "I was switching seats with Fiyero."

"_Prince _Fiyero," he corrected with a glare.

"That's the one."

He raised his eyebrow in challenge, but she adopted a bored expression. "Sit down." Frexspar's eyes were stony as he took his place beside her. "There's nothing wrong with where you were seated."

"But Nessa…"

"You must let this ridiculous obsession with your sister's frailty go. Nessarose will sit beside her fiancé. He is responsible for her future, not you."

Elphaba started to interrupt, but Fiyero tugged her toward her chair. Barely did the wisdom of withdrawal overcome her indignance, and she plopped back in her seat with a cranky scowl.

Fiyero slipped his hand into her lap to capture hers. He gave a quick squeeze and dropped it before she had time to react. She turned to study his expression, but he kept his eyes forward. After a long few moments, he whispered, "I know you're unhappy with me, but I'll do my best to take care of her. Tell me what to do."

"You couldn't have just traded me seats?" she hissed, and his eyes darted back to her father.

"I'm sorry. It's not a fight I could have won for you at the moment. Without embarrassing your sister or exposing your promises, at least."

She sank back. "Well, this is going to be difficult."

"We'll have to make do."

"What are you two whispering about?" Frexspar barked, tipped off by Nessa's curious stare. "Prince Fiyero, you needn't baby her. She'll sulk regardless, I'm afraid." He turned to Elphaba with a stern face. "If you can't behave, you can do without your dinner."

Her jaw dropped, but Fiyero spoke before she could get herself tossed out. "Not at all, sir. I merely thought to put in a good word for Master Aruc. He's taken quite an interest in Miss Elphaba, and I was testifying to his many positive qualities on his behalf. I meant no offense."

"Perhaps that's best done elsewhere, son," the king chastised. "After Master Aruc has addressed the matter with the girl's father."

"Of course," Fiyero flushed. "My apologies."

Aruc rubbed his neck at the king's heavy stare. "I beg pardon, your highness. I assumed as I was still far from Miss Elphaba's favor, the need had not yet arisen. I will plan more wisely in the future." That last came with a pointed glare at Fiyero.

"How pleased I am that you find interest in our lovely guest!" the queen's sweet voice rang as she beamed at him. "I am certain you are mistaken in your estimation of her disfavor, yes?"

Elphaba shifted under the woman's gaze. "I haven't known Master Aruc long enough for him to curry either favor or reproach." Frexspar sent her a warning look, but the queen smiled, appeased enough to shift the spotlight to other discussions.

Fiyero inclined his head a minute degree toward her, eyes forward, and whispered, "It does seem we have the hardest time finding any opportunity that any two people might."

She smiled, copying his example. "True."

"So, what should I do? Quick before we're rediscovered."

"Small bites, small drinks, neat." He bobbed a tiny nod. "Alternate with your own food so she doesn't feel like you're staring at her. Don't shove the fork-" She paused for the steward to set down their first course. "Don't shove the fork in her mouth. Let her eat it. Oz, there's too much. Just try to use good judgment."

His crooked smile held back his chuckle. "I'll try."

"I'll let you know if you do something wrong."

"Oh, I'm certain of that." She transformed her laugh into a hiccup, which freed him to glance at her openly. She met his smile and drug her eyes back to her plate. "Napkin?" He turned to Nessarose gallantly, and Elphaba resisted the urge to correct him. "This is one of my favorite dishes. Truffles with rabbit."

"It looks delicious," Nessa studied him from beneath her eyelashes.

"It is," he assured her as he scooped a small bite on her fork. He offered it to her too far away, and Nessa teetered forward to reach it. Elphaba waited until he withdrew the fork to kick his foot.

Fiyero almost turned to her from instinct, but converted it to a bite of his own. "Closer, you idiot." He ghosted a nod.

She watched him work with Nessa, balancing her needs with her autonomy. So caught up was Elphaba that her appetizer remained untouched when the stewards approached to clear the table. She shoved a couple forkfuls of the rabbit in her mouth before they took her plate. Fiyero had been right. It was delicious.

Frexspar saw her and scowled. "Elphaba! Manners!"

She set her fork down, blushing. "Finally, a girl with an appetite," Aruc winked from across the table. "How admirable."

"It's easy to have an appetite with food this delicious."

The queen beamed at her praise, and Fiyero shot her an impressed look. He waited for cover and whispered, "I do believe that was your first actual compliment."

"Don't get used to it."

He chuckled. "No fear of that."

They continued their clandestine correspondence throughout dinner, and Fiyero mastered the basics enough to handle this meal with relative grace. She even managed to eat a third of her own dinner. Aruc's presence earned them a free evening, and the quartet retired from the adults' watchful eyes at last. Fiyero caught her attention and murmured, "Well?"

"What?"

"Dinner. How terrible was I?"

"Not that terrible." He let out a sigh, and she laughed. "Were you worried?"

"Of course! Miss 'I'll let you know if you do something wrong.' I could hardly breathe all night with you watching me like a hawk." But his smile exposed his good humor.

"Good. Keep you on your toes."

"As if you'd ever let me anywhere else. Do you enjoy keeping others off balance?"

"Oh, like you don't."

A bouquet of poppies appeared in front of her, and she stared at them until Aruc all but shoved them in her hands. "Striking flowers for a striking girl."

Fiyero coughed a laugh. "Striking?"

"Quite fitting, yes?"

"I'd say so." Fiyero swallowed a smile. "Though not the best of compliments. You should take better care with your choice of words in honor of our sharp-witted Miss Elphaba."

"What would you say, oh, sovereign of romance?"

He tsked. "You'd get me in trouble, complimenting another in front of my fiancée."

"If you're unable to…" Aruc challenged, and Fiyero laughed.

"Such a lackluster taunt. I'd expect more from you." Aruc waved him on. "Fine. But only under duress and qualified with no comparison to the delightful Miss Nessarose." Fiyero tipped his head toward her, and she giggled.

"No, no. If you might shelter Master Aruc from my sister's rebuke, please do."

Elphaba shook her head. "You'd turn against me as well, my pretty?"

"Oh, it's mere folly. Don't be cross."

"Far be it from me to deny my future bride." Fiyero circled Elphaba with evaluative eyes that made her throw her shoulders back to camouflage her vulnerability. By his playful face, he meant to tease her for her cross behavior earlier, but she sensed a true perceptiveness that she'd rather he not unleash on her.

"See, Aruc, you mayn't use any praise which could be turned with the slightest measure of cunning to mean any critique."

"Oh, cunning?" Elphaba made a face, sarcasm dripping from her words, "Well, you're doing spectacularly thus far."

"See?" He grinned, but winked at her in assumed secret collusion. "Too intense a compliment, and she'll dub you insincere or unreliably affected, no matter the truth. Too modest a compliment, and you'll offend her the same as an insult. Better none at all."

"Is that your answer?" She laughed. "I do believe that's the best I've heard yet."

"No, no. Praising the exacting Miss Elphaba is not for the weak of heart. But I am no coward-" He paused to kiss Nessa's cheek and wink. "So I shall persevere."

Elphaba smirked. "Is not an ignorant fool wiser than an arrogant man aware of the danger but dismissive of it?"

"Keep your riddles from me." He wagged a finger. "I'll not be distracted."

"It seems that's all you shall be."

"Beautiful as she is, Aruc," he held his eyes trained on Elphaba's face, "you cannot praise her appearance to her satisfaction."

"You find me vain?" She drew back in annoyance. "Hardly!"

"Precisely. Your unnecessary humility keeps you blind to any truth in that respect."

"How do you know? Perhaps that's exactly how I'd prefer praising."

"No, you shan't mislead me." He lifted an eyebrow, scrutinizing her with surprising efficiency. "With cautious weighing of words, I would praise Miss Elphaba for her astounding wit despite its use in dispatching poor suitors to tatters."

"So…you'd say?" Nessa supplied, amused by his silliness.

"Miss Elphaba," he lifted her hand to his lips, "you're the cleverest person I've met or am likely to in the foreseeable future."

"Is that long, the foreseeable future?" she teased.

"Have I chosen poorly?"

"I suppose not. Better than Aruc at least, though I could have done without the show."

"Splendid!" Nessa beamed up at Fiyero. "Well done."

He bent in a showy bow, and Aruc kicked him over. "Thanks for outshining my praise. Isn't one pretty girl enough for you, or must you charm all them?"

Fiyero shrugged and turned to his fiancée. "What shall we do this evening, Miss Nessarose? Your wish is my command."

"Oh, whatever you like."

"I have it on good authority you're quite the singer, is that so?"

Nessa blushed. "Oh, no. Elphaba's the one with the beautiful voice."

Fiyero pressed on, "But you do enjoy singing?" Nessa nodded, and Aruc clapped his hands together.

"Well, that's it, then. We demand a demonstration."

"In truth, Elphaba is the gifted one. You should have her sing."

"Fine." Fiyero lounged on the sofa, hands behind his head. "After you sing, she'll sing."

Elphaba huffed. "I'm not the one who likes singing. Why should I have to?"

"You sing much better than I," Nessa countered, and Aruc draped an arm around each of them.

"Girls, girls, the longer you resist, the more we shall be forced to coerce you." He winked at Elphaba, and she sighed.

"Alright, we'll sing. But if we have to, so do you."

Fiyero and Aruc had a silent deliberation across the room. "Right then. I'll start," Aruc offered with a robust laugh. "I'm afraid I only know drinking songs, so we'll have to just muddle through somehow." He broke into an off-key and off-color reel about beer and women that Fiyero felt the need to interrupt.

"Perhaps we should start with the ladies. Maybe then you can think of a less offensive song. Nessa?"

She launched into a sweet, somber hymn that was one of her favorites, eyes shut in prayerful concentration. Her clear voice navigated the calm melody with familiarity. When she ended, her eyes stayed shut for a moment, transported with religious fervor to a heaven that the others were excluded from. Fiyero caught Aruc's eye and clapped politely.

"What a pretty song, Miss Nessarose."

Her cheeks bloomed with a becoming blush. "You are too kind, Master Fiyero."

Nessa returned to her seat, and they all stared at Elphaba. "Oh, if I must."

She felt for a melody, letting it sing through her, and found it a bittersweet song - loss mixed with hope, longing and reluctant faith, a far off future that might be believed in if she allowed the wish. She sang it, simply, truthfully, without any arrogant attempt at embellishment. The song filled her with a yearning that seeped into her voice, and it's end left her empty, but paradoxically full.

A hush thundered in its place once the song faded, and for too long no one moved.

"Lurline," Aruc swore, staring at her with awe-filled eyes. Fiyero's eyes caught hers, startling in their intensity, and he cleared his throat.

"That was…" He shook his head, stunned. "…so, so very…"

She shifted, uncomfortable in the silence. "You next, Fiyero."

"What am I to sing to follow that?" He shook his head, lost. "Some childish hunting chant? Nothing is good enough."

"You promised." She crossed her arms, and when he didn't move, she clasped his hand and tugged. "Sing."

"Elphaba, that…I can't disturb that perfection." He caught her face in his hands. "That was breathtaking. If I never hear another song, that will be the perfect memory that will last into eternity."

"You're being dramatic."

"A miracle of beauty deserves no less."

"It's just a song."

He tipped her face to his, a reproving frown. "And yesterday was just a sunset." She sensed the futility of her argument and held her tongue. He released her, studying her with new eyes.

Aruc tossed an arm around her. "Some set of pipes on you, girl."

She rolled her eyes. "Disappointed it's not a drinking song?" she teased, and he smiled.

"How could anyone be disappointed with that?"

She shrugged.

Nessa wore a smug smile. "I did say my sister had a good voice."

"Good? That's like calling heaven okay," Aruc squeezed Elphaba's shoulder into him. "She's spectacular."

Nessa frowned at the hint of sacrilege, and she pestered Aruc into a reluctant theological discussion that interested no one but her.

Fiyero kept quiet the rest of the evening, and his burning eyes stole Elphaba's voice as well. She avoided his gaze, too disturbed by the unabashed admiration in it, and when the evening finally ended, she slipped away from the boys with the barest of goodnights.

* * *

AN: I've noticed my chapters growing longer, and I wondered which you all would prefer - these longer chapters, or shorter ones with a little faster updates? As always, thank you for thanking the time to read my work. You guys are awesome.


	13. Enthusiasm

AN: Thank you so much for the feedback. I really appreciate it. Please let me know if the chapters get too long. You guys are awesome.

* * *

Elphaba forced her eyes away from the door yet again. It felt so strange to be at the breakfast table without Fiyero, even as few days as they'd spent there.

"My apologies," he dashed through the door at last. "I was detained. Our parents will not be joining us. They are meeting with the officiator."

Elphaba tilted her head, "Officiator?"

"For the wedding." He nodded toward the stewards, who brought plates of warm pastries and cold fruit. "Miss Nessarose and I are to join them."

"Oh."

"And…Aruc will be here shortly."

"What?"

"I thought it convenient, considering." He shot her a meaningful stare. "He can keep you company until our meeting is concluded."

That stupid agreement. She'd so hoped to avoid it. "Fine. But he'd better behave."

Fiyero stilled long enough to meet her eyes. "He will." They ate in hurried silence, caught in their own thoughts and worries.

"What a glorious morning," Aruc's jovial presence flooded the room as he noisily kissed both girls' cheeks. "You, too, pookie?"

Fiyero pinched his friend's lips before they could touch down and pushed them away. Then he blotted his mouth with a napkin and stood. "Ready Miss Nessarose?"

"Leaving so soon?"

Elphaba's eyes begged for deliverance, and he flashed an apologetic smile. "We must. I still have that work from yesterday waiting." He led Nessa toward the door, stopping to murmur in Aruc's ear, "Behave."

Then they disappeared, leaving her alone with Aruc. She stretched her breakfast in hopes of rescue, but all too soon, she found herself without excuse.

"Right then, shall we?"

She sighed. "If I must."

He looped an arm toward her waist, which she stealthily avoided. He converted the motion into a grab for her hand, but she dodged again. Aruc took a step back to study her. "Going to make me chase you, then?"

"I'd rather you didn't, in fact."

He leaned closer, "Only way to avoid that is to be caught."

She matched his lean with a sweet smile. "I wouldn't bet on that." Then she spun in the opposite direction. He followed, and she backed away, faster and faster, gaining speed until she abandoned all pretenses and raced toward the closest hallway.

"Oh, blessed Lurline," he swore and tore off in chase. She whirled round a corner, narrowly avoiding an ill-placed vase. "You know, this only makes me want you more!" he called, breathless from the exertion as she dodged through fountain and finery. "Is it so bad to be caught?"

She laughed. "Very!"

She took a blind turn and slammed headfirst into a steward. The man's stared at her with wide eyes, and she burst out her apologies between pants. Aruc, sensing his opportunity, sprinted toward her, and she scrambled to her feet, narrowly avoiding his grasp.

"You're fighting the inevitable."

"So are you," she said as she vanished through a tapestry.

"What then? We're destined to continue this chase into eternity?" Aruc barreled after her, and she twisted through several sharp turns, unable to throw him off.

"No," she puffed, "just until you give up." She chanced a look back, and squeaked at how much of the distance he'd closed. He made a push, and his fingertips brushed her elbow.

"So eternity, then."

She scowled and redoubled her efforts. They tore around the castle with no sense of propriety, and Elphaba felt herself giggling in abandon.

The chase stretched on, and her lungs ached with the exertion. She needed to regroup. With a well-timed burst of speed, she sprinted out of sight long enough to plot a hiding place – a narrow niche with a clear escape path.

Aruc raced halfway across the room before he slowed. He tilted his head. "Hmm." He studied the room. "Come out, come out, my cute little mouse."

She held her breath despite her lungs protestations for oxygen. He checked to her left. To her right. Took another step away… and then snatched at her edge of her skirt.

She yelped and darted out of his grip. She pressed for more speed, Aruc right on her heels, and she spun away from him just as his fingertips brushed her back. She gripped the frame of a door and flung herself blindly through it, and right into her father.

"Elphaba? What are you doing?" Confusion morphed to anger just as Aruc snatched her from behind.

"Got you!" He wheezed as his arms landed around her waist. His lips found her ear, "Lurline, you're a fast little thing, aren't you?"

Then he looked up to see their witnesses…staring. He gulped.

What a fine picture they must have made - cheeks red, hair disheveled, panting. Elphaba's face flooded with color.

Fiyero glared at Aruc while the others' eyes all settled on Elphaba. Aruc took a giant step away from her. "We were…" he chanced, but then he abandoned it. "I apologize, your majesties. If you'll excuse us…"

He tugged at her to leave, but Fiyero stood.

"Please pardon us a moment." He crossed the room. "I believe I should remind my friend of the proper behavior with our guests."

The king nodded. "I think that wise. We'll continue in your absence."

"Not too long," a thin, wiry man with a sharp, sullen face commanded. "There is much to discuss, your highness."

"A moment," Fiyero assured him, and then he pushed Aruc out the door.

Elphaba ducked after them, grateful to escape the many eyes.

"Sorry, mate," Aruc began. "We didn't mean to break in on your-"

"I asked you to behave!" Fiyero interrupted, and Aruc slunk back at his tone. "And you terrorize her chasing her through the castle?"

"I didn't mean-"

"Aruc, please be sensible. You make it difficult to vouch for your honor when you follow it with such brutish behavior."

"It was just a game," Elphaba intervened. "You needn't be so angry."

"No, he's right." Aruc held up a hand. "I shouldn't have run after you. I'm sorry."

"I all but challenged you to it." She turned back to Fiyero. "Don't be cross with him."

"You told me to have him behave, and by Oz, I will. Since he is so incapable on his own." Aruc nodded, eyes downcast, and Fiyero cupped her cheek. "You're certain you're alright?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I am."

"Perhaps we should save the games until later, then," he directed to Aruc. "I'll come to the library when I'm done. I trust you'll be more civil to my fiancée, at least?"

Aruc nodded again and mumbled a sincere apology.

"Sorry about your meeting," Elphaba added. "We didn't mean to interrupt."

Fiyero smiled gently at her. "Actually, it's the most entertainment I've had all morning." His gaze hardened at Aruc, "Not that it's an invitation to misuse my guests again."

"How much longer will you be?"

He squeezed her hand. "Too long. But it gets longer the more I stay here, I fear." He brushed a thumb across her cheek. "No more running, yes?"

"Yes, Father," she mocked. "Honestly."

He quirked a smile and tapped her nose. "Careful, or I'll discipline you, silly girl," he teased. He stepped toward the door. "You'll be at the library?"

"Yes."

He flashed a smile, and she heard his echoing thoughts as if he'd spoken it out loud – rare and pleasing. She blushed. He grinned, until he faced the door. Head hung, he treaded through the door like a man about to be executed.

Aruc offered her a gentlemanly arm and led her toward the library. His new polite manner kept him reserved, so different from the vibrant boy that had been chasing her moments ago.

"Are we bound to silence now?"

He blinked up at her. "No, Miss Elphaba. Unless you'd prefer it?"

"While this reprieve from your useless advances is welcome, your newly forced civility is not." She shook him. "Aruc, relax. Are you that afraid of Fiyero?"

"Of course not." Aruc gave a dismissive snort, puffing out his chest. "Merely attempting to be more hospitable."

"Is this silent staring game more hospitable, then?"

She wrinkled her nose, and he laughed. "True. I apologize yet again, Miss Elphaba. I seem to be making quite the fool of myself today."

"Today?"

He narrowed his eyes, but didn't rise to the bait.

"I don't see why Fiyero had to yell at you, though. I mean, I know I told him to make you behave, but-"

"You shouldn't have needed to tell him that. If my behavior is that atrocious, then I am truly sorry, Miss Elphaba."

"Stop apologizing." She rolled her eyes. "And drop the Miss Elphaba, or shall I call you Master Aruc? If you could be so informal when we _were_ strangers, why be so distanced now?"

"So we're closer, then, are we?"

She pushed his face to the side. "Don't push your luck."

They reached the stairs, and she took hold of the banister, surprised that he didn't drop her arm. The formal escort made her stiff as it lent more serious intention to their meeting than she desired.

"Is that why you're here this morning? To babysit Fiyero's guest?"

"Babysit?" Aruc raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you'd call this?"

"Isn't it? I thought you all had some ridiculous rules about not leaving a guest alone."

"Hospitality is not ridiculous. It's a demonstration of the value that we place on your presence and of the strength of honor we hold ourselves to. One I am ashamed to have dishonored."

"It was just a game."

"It was improper."

"Oh, who cares about improper?" Elphaba huffed, and Aruc grinned.

"Is that so?"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Don't worry. I won't forget myself again so quickly."

"Yes. Mustn't make Fiyero mad again," she teased.

"He was right. I can be too…exuberant at times. He lets me know if I've overstepped. I shan't let my enthusiasm overwhelm again."

'Enthusiasm?"

He bent forward to kiss her hand with a blazing smile. "Oh, very much so."

She blushed and yanked her hand away. "Tell me more. About your culture, not your enthusiasm."

"What shall I tell you?"

She thought of questions, but they all seemed too menial for her to voice out loud. "What do you suppose they're meeting about?"

"The wedding."

"I know that, you buffoon. What is a wedding like here? What should they need to discuss?"

"I suppose, given the length, they are discussing the obligations of the monarchy and the restrictions that entails."

"Are there many?"

"In short, yes." She frowned at the thought of her sister constrained to a life of rules and propriety, though it suited Nessa's strictness provided it was compatible with her religious fervor. "For example, look at now. Fiyero is stuck in a miserable meeting with a bride not of his choosing while I am free to romance the beautiful creature my heart so admires."

"He's lucky to have Nessa."

Aruc leaned away at her tone. "True."

"Isn't arranged marriage custom here?"

"For the monarchy. Else why would I be wooing you?"

She crossed her arms, "Well, I wish you'd stop."

"I thought we discussed this earlier." He grinned. "You only make me want you more."

"Then if I were caught, your affections would turn to more elusive partners?"

He kissed her hand, "Doubtful."

"Yes, but supposing I would be insane enough to be caught…"

He shot her a look. "Should I be so fortunate to win your affection, I fear I shall be even more drawn to you."

"That hardly makes sense. You can't be more drawn to me if I run _and _if I stop." He shrugged, and she scowled. "It's illogical."

"It's inevitable."

"Uh, you're back to obnoxious, I see."

"He'd better not," Fiyero called darkly as he strode toward them. "Shall I use a more lasting reminder?"

"I'm innocent this time, mate." Aruc stood, not half as calm as his grin implied. "My only misbehavior was adoration."

"Well, I can hardly fault you for that."

"Nessa is downstairs." Fiyero turned to Elphaba, who stood. "Are you ready for our lesson?"

Aruc gave a quick nod and a hasty goodbye, infected by Fiyero's brisk manner.

"You're done early."

"Yes, gratefully," he said, shuffling through several papers on the desk. "Though it's only adjourned until tomorrow."

"Was it so terrible?"

"No. Just dull." He smiled at her. "Certainly not as exciting as your chase about the castle."

She colored. "Are you still cross with Aruc?"

"Should I be?"

"No. I told you it was my fault. I started running."

"He didn't have to chase you." The sternness faded from Fiyero's face into a light humor as quick as it had come, "Although, I suppose he did, in fact."

She shifted at the affection in his eyes. "He shouldn't. I won't be caught."

"That only draws him further in," he said, signing the last page and depositing it in the top drawer.

She rolled her eyes. "That's what he said. What is with you men?"

"You'd blame us? What can man do to withstand the whiles of women?" Fiyero touched a thumb to her cheek. "If you'd rather not be chased, don't be so worth chasing."

"How do you propose I do that?"

He shook his head. "I'm afraid that's impossible."

"Then I'm doomed?"

"Doomed to be admired? Yes, I'm afraid so." He grinned. "Poor Aruc."

"Poor Aruc?" she huffed, incensed. "I'm the one being pursued."

"But he's the one so hopelessly enamored. You have fully bewitched him."

"I have done nothing of the sort. His delusions have captivated him, if anything. It's not my fault if your friend is so blind as to believe me worth desiring."

"Blind?" Fiyero frowned. "In what way?"

She shot him a stern stare. "You know in what way."

"No, honestly, I do not."

"Nessa's the pretty one."

"She is, but so are you – whatever you might think."

"You needn't flatter me with absurdity, Fiyero. I am perfectly comfortable with my own shortcomings. They don't bother me in the slightest."

"Why would you think yourself unappealing?"

She laughed at the oddness of having to explain it. "Look at Nessarose, and look at me." She thrust her chest out proudly, "My sister is the most beautiful girl you could ever hope to meet."

"And you compare yourself to her?"

"No, we're night and day. She's my beautiful sun, and I'm her brooding night."

"But the night _is_ beautiful."

"Then it's a bad analogy," Elphaba snapped.

Fiyero gave a knowing smile. "So the boys always chased pretty Nessarose, and you believed yourself unworthy."

She shrugged. "I'm too tall, twiggy and green to suit the Munchkin boys. What does it matter? They're too frivolous and worthless to interest me." She waved a hand. "I shall likely die a cynical old maid, quite content to be alone with my cats."

He laughed. "Is that how you fancy your future?"

"It would suit me quite well, in fact."

He lounged on the sofa, and she took the seat beside him. "I don't think you'll be given the chance. If not Aruc, some lovesick fool is going to chase you until you're weary enough to relent."

"I've plenty of endurance."

"I don't doubt it." He turned toward her and draped an arm across the back of the sofa. "Well, you are neither too tall, too twiggy, nor too green to suit Vinkan sensibilities."

"I _was_ curious why you didn't react to my skin." He tilted his head, and she amended, "When we first met."

"It's no more odd than your sister's pale pink, is it?"

"Yes!" She laughed. "You thought it normal?"

"No, I meant, our dark skin, her light, your jade, what is the difference?" Elphaba lifted a skeptical eyebrow. "Besides, you were a guest. You expect I'd be so crass as to stare? Now it is just part of you."

"You hid your disgust?"

He gave her a withering look. "Surprise, not disgust. You are not the slightest disgusting."

"But why hide it?"

"Why not tell Nessa about our lessons? We avoid embarrassing those we care for."

"You can't care for me before you met me."

"Can't I? Is that not the meaning of hospitality?"

"So you don't actually like me, you're just being the host you're expected be."

His face sobered, and he leaned close enough to make her shift. "I like you plenty."

"Because you're supposed to."

"My affection is not defined by my responsibilities."

"Isn't it?"

"Is yours? Do you care for Nessarose because you must?"

"How often you exploit that! Find another argument."

He laughed and cupped her cheek. "I wouldn't dare. You refuse any logic you find unattractive, whatever it's truth."

"I do not!"

"You do. You're willfully blind, convincing yourself that you are plain and I uncaring."

"Both true!"

He barked a laugh. "Neither!" He squeezed her hand. "As if anyone could help admiring you with that angelic voice."

"That again?" She scowled and drew her hand away. "Stop mentioning that ridiculous song."

"So I'm not to mention how you're pretty or talented? That's hardly fair."

"And your endless pestering after I've endured Aruc is?"

"Then agree, and I shall cease."

"You're just as obnoxious, aren't you? You've only hidden it longer."

"Perhaps." He leaned back, grinning. "But he is free to chase you, and as I am not, I must endeavor to aid my friend."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "You'd pair me with that cad?"

"He does admire you." His eyes traveled slowly over her, and she flushed. "You know, I think you admire him as well."

"What?"

"I saw that blush. I think your protests are a misdirection lest we discover your true vulnerability."

She glowered. "I assure you, they are not."

"So you say." He winked.

"So I mean!"

His teasing lost its frivolity. "I wouldn't mislead you. He is of better character than he seems. You know I would never let harm come to you. You can trust my estimation."

She squirmed. "Must you be so stubborn?"

He grinned and tweaked her nose. "Yes."

"Enough. You'll talk our whole lesson away again." She produced the brush she'd hidden in her skirts. "You did well enough with dinner, so I suppose we should move on."

"Did I?"

"Don't be _too_ proud," she teased. "But it was adequate, I suppose." He grinned and circled behind her.

"Is this my reward then?" his voice low beside her ear.

"The next lesson."

He unwound her tightly braided hair and slipped his fingers through the strands, freeing them into a long smooth cape that flowed in waves down her back. It should have been innocent as when Nanny helped untangle the worst of her knots, but her breath came more quickly than she'd expected.

"I've wanted to do that since I first saw you," he confessed. "Such beautiful hair hidden away so tightly."

"It's too long to be practical."

"It's perfect." His fingers found her scalp, easing the tension that the tight pull had left. He chuckled low in his throat, "And so like you to keep it a secret."

She swallowed. He worked his fingernails across her scalp, a sea of tingles rippling in his wake. She struggled not to drown in that sea, but her brain was dissolving away with increasing speed. She cleared her throat.

"Nessa is more tender-headed than I am, but-" He gave her hair a quick tug, and she had to stifle a groan. Oz. What was the matter with her?

"But what?"

"Um," Elphaba pushed the brush at him, desperate to trade his fingers for something that would let her think. "She loves to have her hair brushed."

"Don't all women?" The husky note in his voice said perhaps Fiyero felt the strangeness, too. She nodded, but he caught her chin. "Still," he chastised. His hand trailed back to her scalp, combing through the long hair.

"Where did you learn that?" She kept her voice more even than she felt. "Most men are terrible with long hair." Not that she knew from experience, but Nanny had complained so often on the faults of men that she felt the opinion true enough.

He froze and after a long pause, murmured, "Sarima."

"Your…"

"Yes." He restarted his strokes, smoothing her wild hair with brush and hand. "She had long hair like yours, but not so dark. I'd brush her hair for hours."

His tenderness made the admission feel so intimate that she looked down. "I'm sorry."

He lifted her chin again and left his hand as sentry this time. "Whatever for?"

"You must miss her."

His voice was carefully measured, "Yes." He abandoned the brush to bury his fingers in her hair. "But she is gone."

"You think you'll love my sister as much?"

"I hope…" he traced the shape of her ear through her hair, and her eyes fluttered shut despite all her resistance. "But love is hard to command. Time will decide."

"And if not?"

"A life with one's friend is not so terrible, is it?"

"It's not the same."

He kissed the crown of her head. "No, it's not." He drew a deep breath and spun her to face forward. The pull to him stole her breath, and she gaped up at him, eyes wide and fixated on his lips. "You should leave your hair down." He wrapped a strand loosely around his finger. "It suits you."

"Oh?" She cursed her brain for freezing as she stared, doe-eyed like some fool.

"It highlights your lovely cheekbones." He trailed a thumbnail across her cheek. "Aruc would be putty in your hands. Well, more so than he is."

She wrinkled her nose. "Then you should tie it back again."

Fiyero grinned and gathered it in his hands, his forearms propped against her neck. "I refuse to have any part in that travesty."


	14. Stealing

The afternoon spun long with Elphaba's thoughts in such turmoil. When Fiyero caught her eyes, she couldn't help the broad smile that stole over her face, or how his grin echoed hers back. The others didn't react to their strange behavior, and she clung to the pathetic hope that she might be imagining it all.

"May I escort you to dinner?" Aruc provided an arm, but Elphaba snorted.

"Asking now, are we?"

"I'm attempting to be more gentlemanly, lest I send you running off to Fiyero for protection."

She colored at Fiyero's name, and it worsened when he looked over at them. "If I accept your escort, I fear it will only encourage you."

"Indeed."

"Then I shan't. You hardly need further encouragement."

"You'd abandon me to pine for you when you might save me with a single word?"

"You needn't pine for me at all."

Aruc fingered her hair where it swirled around her arms. "You're more bewitching each time I see you. How can I resist?"

"It is your own self control to blame, not me."

"Enough," Fiyero interrupted with a laugh. "We've already arrived, so I believe the point to be somewhat moot."

As Fiyero sat Nessa with his usual grace, Aruc held the chair beside her out with a smooth smile. He bent toward Elphaba in a half-bow. She wrinkled her nose at the thought of a dinner full of Aruc's continuous flirting and flung herself into Fiyero's seat before he could occupy it himself.

Fiyero raised an eyebrow, and she flashed a cheeky grin. "Is that the path you've chosen?" He leaned over her, his hands wrapped around her chair to tease her upper arms. "Steal my seat again, and I'll make you sit in my lap."

"How rude!"

"Says the one in my chair." He sat beside her, and she busied herself with Nessa to avoid his eyes burning into the side of her face.

She'd fed her sister the last bite of her first course when his hand crept on her lap to steal her napkin. Shocked, Elphaba dropped her fork with a clatter. A dozen eyes jerked toward her, and she mumbled a quiet apology.

Fiyero chuckled and showily dabbed his mouth with her napkin. "You brute!" she hissed. "You stole my napkin."

"Oh, I thought stealing was in vogue today?"

"Give it back."

"Fair trade for my chair." She snatched back her napkin, but he pinned her wrist. "I think you've stolen enough from me for one night."

"It's _my _napkin."

"Which repays my chair. But as I have a spare, I might be persuaded to part with it…for a price."

"What price?"

"Let me brush your hair again tomorrow." He released her wrist to catch a loose strand and twist it between his fingers.

"Why that?"

He stared at her deeply. When he spoke, the darkness in his tone made her shiver, "Because I'd like to. Very much."

Her mouth dry, she nodded.

"I believed you dropped this," he spoke loud enough to be heard with a sly grin.

"Thank you." Her smile hid clenched teeth, and he winked.

Dinner held little interest for her with the memory of his hand in her lap resurfacing every few moments. She couldn't understand her idiotic behavior. This was Fiyero, engaged to her sister and intolerable to her for that fact. Her imagination replaced Nessa with herself, and she snapped her bread down with some force.

Fiyero leaned to whisper, "Is your bread now the enemy?"

"What interest have you in my bread? Or do you plan to steal that also?"

He chuckled. "Still cross about your napkin? I will choose my jests with more care next time."

"There shouldn't be a next time." She scowled. "Or do you seek to make Aruc more palatable to me by being so obnoxious yourself?"

He blinked and pulled back. "I was unaware I should factor at all in comparison with your potential suitor."

"You don't. Nor is he any suitor of mine, whatever he might think."

"Why are you so angry?"

"You pilfer my napkin, and ask why I'm angry?"

He leaned forward, annoyed. "You have it back, don't you? Unlike my chair."

"So you may be cross about a chair, but I mayn't about a napkin?"

"Fine, be cross. Oz knows you'll find reason despite what I say." He sighed. "I don't understand. You started the thefts."

"No, you did," she snarled. "You're stealing my sister." She pushed her chair back and stood to address the room. "If you'll pardon me, I'm not feeling well." She waved off Nessa's concern. "I just need to lie down."

Fiyero stood as well. "I'll escort you."

"I don't need an escort," she bit out. "I'm perfectly capable of seeing to myself."

The queen's voice wafted, "No, my son is quite right. If you are ill, you should be cared for."

She bit her lip in frustration as she searched for an out. "Then Master Aruc can escort me."

Aruc's eyebrows rose, but he stood. "Of course, Miss Elphaba."

Fiyero caught her elbow. "No need. I'll see to her."

She jerked away and strode to Aruc with Fiyero on her heels. Aruc glanced from her to the prince and back in confusion, but when she linked her arm with his, he took a step away from the table. Fiyero grabbed for her again, and she dodged him, flattening herself against Aruc's side.

"Son?"

Fiyero turned to face the king and remembered himself, sitting with red cheeks in her neglected chair. She dragged her escort toward the door, and paused beside Fiyero to whisper, "There. You have your precious chair back."

"We will discuss this," he seethed. "You can't hide forever."

Aruc led her from the dining room with his brow furrowed. When they'd turned the corner, he asked, "What was that about?"

"Nothing," she waved him off. "Thank you for escorting me."

He wrapped a supportive arm around her waist. "My pleasure. Not that I'm pleased you're sick…"

She nodded, and he ducked his head. "I hate to steal you from your dinner. I'll be fine on my own, if you'd like-"

"It's no imposition. I want to take care of you."

She forced a smile, wearied by his sincerity. As they walked, his constant attentiveness left her with a growing headache. How could she dissuade him if he refused to listen? They reached the door to her family's suite, and she almost sighed in relief. "Thank you again."

"Not at all. You're certain you'll be alright?"

"Of course. It's just a little headache."

He pressed a hand to her forehead, and when convinced she had no fever, he released her. "Will I see you tomorrow morning? No racing, I promise."

She wrinkled her nose. "I suppose." He wished her a goodnight with a kiss to her hand and started down the hallway. "Aruc?"

"Yes?" He returned to her side in an instant.

"Please don't expect anything to happen between us. You are a kind man, but I am not interested in any romantic relationship."

"Now."

She shook her head. "Ever."

"So you say now." Oz, she wanted to shake that infernal grin off his face. "But look at the progress I've made in a day."

"I will never be interested. How can I make you believe the truth?"

"I believe that's the truth: as you know it to be." He dipped in a small bow. "Goodnight, Miss Elphaba. Until tomorrow."

* * *

Elphaba woke early then next morning, and with Nessa's groaning complaint against the hour, she slipped alone to breakfast. She pushed open the door in anticipation of a quick, unaccompanied breakfast, but her private solace disappeared with one pair of deep brown eyes.

"Morning."

She turned up her nose and sat as far away as possible. "Why are you here?"

"This is my castle, Elphaba. I live here." Fiyero gestured for a steward to bring their breakfast. "I trust you're hungry after neglecting your dinner."

"My appetite has nothing to do with you." He lifted an eyebrow at her choice of words, and she flushed. "So you're here to stalk me?"

"After your abrupt escape yesterday, it would serve you right."

Despite her anger, his coldness surprised her. "I see you're in a lovely mood this morning."

He snorted. "Moods. Well, you would be the expert."

"Oh, would I?" She shoved her chair back. "Well, I shan't sit here and be insulted. I've plenty of that without yours."

She stalked toward the door, but he caught the knob. "So you're running off again? Oz, and you claim I'm impossible!"

"You are!" She shoved his arm, but he kept her blocked from the door. "Let me go."

"So you can hide again? I think not."

She pushed him harder, and he pinned her arms against him. "Let go, you brute!"

"No," he grunted with the effort of resisting her struggles. "I think you've been indulged more than enough." The door swung open, and he jerked back in surprise. A steward backed out again, mumbling his apologies, but his entrance had been enough to remind Fiyero of propriety. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… You have the most frustrating way of making me forget myself."

"While you drive me to insanity with your own 'jests.'"

"At least I don't use good men like play-toys."

"What's that to mean?"

Fiyero did not back down. "Aruc is my friend. Whatever you think of him, he deserves better than to be used to make me angry."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly," he spat out. "Asking him to escort you when you know how he feels about you. If you aren't interested, don't tease him with false hope."

"Didn't you say to give him a chance?"

"A real chance. Not a cold-hearted manipulation. Or does it only matter if you win some misguided struggle with me?"

"Oh, that's what this is about. You didn't get your way." She rolled her eyes. "Aruc is fine."

"He's infatuated with you, and you expect him not to be hurt when you bat your eyes at him one moment and shove him away the next?"

"For your information, I was completely honest with him," she snapped. "I have always been, and if he refuses to accept that, I can't help him."

"You expect me to believe you're so naïve?"

She paced away from him to stop the slap that itched for his cheek. "If I'm so manipulative, why did I tell him in no uncertain terms that my feelings for him would never change?"

"Was this before or after you draped yourself on his arm and batted your eyes at him?"

"You-!" She drew her hands in fists to stay calm. "Last night before I sent him away. Multiple times, in fact. I can't see in what fantasy world I've misled him!"

He studied her a moment. "You can't, can you?"

"No, I can't."

He softened. "Elphaba, do you have no experience at all with men? Can't you see that a beautiful woman like you need but crook her finger to have any man at her feet? That every hint of interest is infinitely magnified by his hope? A smile undoes a hundred warnings."

"Oh, you're being ridiculous." She waved her hands in annoyance. "I'm the harshest shrew that exists on the face of the planet, but you fault me for smiling too much?"

"You, Miss Elphaba, are no shrew."

"Isn't that why you're upset with me in the first place? Because I've run off in a temper."

He kept his voice even. "And why did you?"

She shifted. "You…I don't know."

"You do," he smoothed a hand across her forehead. "Tell me."

She blinked up at him, unable to confess her turmoil. So she studied the ground. "I've told you. Nessa." Her half-truth still felt suspiciously like a lie.

He tilted her chin toward him, but she kept her eyes away. "Have I made no progress in your favor? I am not trying to take her away. She is not stolen."

Elphaba drew a ragged breath and fought to stay in control. "She will be yours and not mine. Taken from me against my will. That's stolen."

"She will be ours. I would not keep her from you." His rested his forehead against hers, their noses in an odd caress, and he huffed an emotion-filled laugh. "As if I could deny you anything."

She let herself drink in the warmth of him, his smell, the feel of his hands on her elbows, lost in the guilty pleasure despite the complaints of her conscience.

Finally, he released her and tugged lightly on her braid. "I have to go. I'll look forward to undoing this all during that awful meeting." He pressed a kiss to her forehead where his had been. "Play nice with Aruc. I'll find you as soon as I can."

She watched him leave with a mixture of regret and relief. Despite the guilt, Elphaba couldn't help anticipating his return. Would he really be fixated on her stupid braid all through his meeting? She had half a mind to undo it herself to stop her obsessing. Aruc appeared in his usual good humor, but his many advances fell on deaf ears. She couldn't focus on their shallow conversation.

"Shall we read?" she suggested more to avoid his stares than anything else.

"What would you like?"

"Anything. What's that one?"

Aruc leered. "Why, Miss Elphaba. I had no idea you went for those bodice-ripper romances."

"Something else."

"No, no," he teased. "If that's what you'd like…" He turned to a page and read aloud, "The prince drew her to him, his eyes dark with yearning, and pressed against her in a searing kiss. His hand traveled down the long column of her neck, further still to the milky white-"

"Enough!" Elphaba blushed.

"But it's starting to get good." Aruc winked, and she snatched the book out of his hand to bop him on the head.

"Is there anything that's not indecent?"

He picked up the next volume and read off the title, "A Treatise of Reductive Economics in Times of War."

"That'll do." She grabbed the book and settled on the sofa to read. Aruc made a face at her choice, but with his own book in hand, lounged on the cushion beside her. She opened the dusty cover and read the first paragraph. It bled past her, and she reread it, uncomprehendingly. Perhaps she should exchange it for a more political book. Economics had never been her interest.

No, Aruc would tease her mercilessly. So she immersed herself in the dry text with her rogue imagination coloring the margins. Her attention wandered, and she found herself pondering what Fiyero's thoughts held. Did he feel the clock's ticking as painful and slow as she did.

She turned the page despite the lack of retention, and Aruc smiled. "You seem distracted, Miss Elphaba."

"What?"

He nodded toward her book. "Sure you wouldn't rather have the other?"

"You may keep your lewd literature all to yourself."

"You seem in high spirits today. You must have recovered from yesterday's headache."

"Has she?" Fiyero strode through the door. "Perhaps she'll be more lenient in our lesson today."

"Fiyero!" She shut her book with more enthusiasm than was discrete. "You're finally done."

"Now that's a welcome a man can appreciate."

Grinning, Fiyero crossed to her and cupped her cheek. Aruc bade them farewell, but it barely registered. "Why so long today?"

"I shan't tell you." He sat beside her and turned her shoulders. "I'm too worried to lose this rare good mood."

"Why?" Suspicion drenched the word, but he tsked.

"Not now. I've been waiting all morning for this, and I refuse to wait a moment more." He untwisted the braid to bury his fingers in her hair, and she shuddered, leaning back into his hands. "Like that?" he teased huskily.

"You have quite an affection for hair," she managed.

He pressed a kiss to her crown. "Well, you've quite the hair to inspire it. It's far too addictive." He lifted the cape of hair and sent it fluttering against her arms on its way down. "You have me entirely at your mercy."

She rolled her eyes. "I've hardly the monopoly on hair."

"True. But your hair is quite..." He wrapped the strand around his finger all the way to her scalp. "Mm, unique."

Her eyes closed, and he chuckled darkly. He dug both hands in her hair and tugged hard enough to make a wave of heat roll through her. "You'll tangle it," she murmured.

"Then I'll just have to untangle it," he all but growled.

Oz, she wanted him to. But her last shred of sanity pulled her away. This was for Nessa. _He_ was for Nessa. She pushed the brush in his hand. "Braid it back."

"What?" He jerked back, surprised. "Did I-"

"Today's lesson," she interrupted. "We'll try something more complicated after you can manage that."

He didn't move, the brush frozen in his hand.

"Gather it to the back and split it into three equal sections."

"It's a tragedy." He shook his head. "Hair like yours shouldn't be hidden."

"Fiyero, stop being difficult. Nessa can't always wear it down." Elphaba forced a frown. "What if it's windy? You'd leave her with hair blowing in her eyes? It's not as if she could hold it back."

"I'm still against this in principle. You have no such excuse."

"This is about Nessa, not me." She emphasized the words in the hopes of convincing herself.

Fiyero raked his fingertips over her scalp in a needless show of gathering stray strands. The rhythm lulled her, and when he split the sections, he 'accidentally' dropped one to start all over.

"Stop stalling," she muttered. "You're going to run out of time."

"What a shame," he cooed, drawing his fingernails over her temple. "Then I suppose we'd have to try again tomorrow."

"Or I might decide you're hopeless and shave both Nessa's and my head."

"So cruel," he pouted. "Fine. Three sections."

"Then fold one over the middle."

"Does it matter which?"

"No." She somehow managed to keep her voice steady even as he traced the sensitive skin behind her ear. "Now the other side over the middle. And so on, and so forth, until you run out of hair."

He set to work, returning her hair to its familiar weave. "How is that?"

"Not bad. Of course, braiding is so easy even a moron could do it."

"Gee, thanks."

"Now again, tighter."

"Again?" She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't keep the smile off her face as he eagerly undid his handiwork. He raked it back and started again, this time emphasizing each turned lock with a firm pull. Her eyes fluttered shut.

"Remember Nessa's tender-headed," Elphaba breathed.

"You said tighter."

"Mm. Just a reminder."

"I see," he swallowed hard. "A very useful reminder." They fell into a tense silence until he lifted the finished braid to tie the ribbon.

She tested it, satisfied that it felt secure. "Much better. You did well."

"I wish I hadn't." He fingered the braid and sighed, "You'll drive me to distraction with this thing."

"You made it."

"Under protest." Fiyero lounged back against the sofa. "Did Aruc manage to behave today?"

She shrugged. "I mostly ignored him while we read."

"Oh? Anything good?"

"Some treatise on economics." He made a face. "Better than the trash Aruc wanted."

Fiyero turned to the small table on his side. "Is this it?" With a grin at her expression, he opened the book to a page halfway and read a bit. Then he snapped it shut with red cheeks. "I'll have to talk to Aruc about his choice of reading material."

"Why, need a recommendation?" Elphaba snarked, and Fiyero whirled on her.

"And if I do? What would you recommend in the way of-" he flipped to a dog-eared page, "'milky bosoms'?"

"You're terrible! As if I'd know." He gave her a knowing look, and she shoved his arm. "So much for gentlemanly!"

"I wasn't the one reading it."

"Nor I!" She crossed her arms. "You've read more of it than I have."

"So you confess to reading some?"

"No. Aruc read aloud."

"Did he now?" Fiyero lifted his eyebrows. "And how did you find it?"

"Indecent! It's your book. How did _you_ find it?"

"Not mine." He laughed and turned the book over. "'The Prince and the Shrew'. An interesting name."

"Ridiculous you mean." He looked up at the change in her voice. The title taunted her, and she scowled. "You should be ashamed, owning such a book."

His brow furrowed. "I'll dispose of it then. I didn't mean to offend you. Honestly, I've never seen this book before." She scoffed. "Look, I'll toss it in the fire right here if you'd like."

"Wonderful. Now we're burning books?"

He froze, unnerved by her sudden antagonism. "I confess, I don't understand what you want here."

"Nothing." She stood. "Nothing at all."

"Where are you going?"

"Nessa should be back soon."

"And we'll see them through the window like always."

"What reasons have we to stay? Our lesson is accomplished."

"Then show me more."

"I beg your pardon?" Her eyes widened, and he frowned.

"Of our lessons." Of course that was his meaning. She cursed her own worthless over-imagination. What was the matter with her? Her self-annoyance overflowed into bitterness at him. Didn't he see why the title would offend her? Couldn't he tell she was sinking in her own ridiculous hormones? Or did he tease her because he couldn't fathom to think of her that way? As if she were some androgynous lump of person.

Maybe she just wished she saw him that way, too. It would certainly be easier.

"We haven't time."

"I thought you said we had too much to justify waiting here."

"But not enough to begin another tedious trial of my patience." She crossed the room to distance herself from him, but he followed.

"Am I such a trial?"

"Yes," she barked, perversely pleased with his hurt expression. "Still rare and pleasing?"

He winced at her spite. "What is the matter with you?"

"You are!"

"I'm sorry my presence so offends you."

She gave a haughty shrug despite a full awareness of the atrociousness of her behavior.

"Please forgive me for wasting your time." He strode halfway to the door before pacing back, frustration oozing off him in waves. "Why do you do that? One moment we get along fine and the next you're furious with me for reasons I can't fathom."

She adopted a disdainful pose. "Yes, well you know how women are."

"Oh, that's codswallop."

"Even if I don't look it," she thrust her jaw forward, invading his space, "I _am_ actually a woman."

"Trust me, I've noticed!" He seemed as shocked as she by his outburst, and he shut his eyes to compose himself. "What I mean is," his voice calm, "all women deserve more respect than that."

Her mouth snapped shut as she struggled to think of a quality comeback.

He edged closer. "I wish you would tell me which of my flaws so offends you that I might dispose of it."

Her eyes flicked up to his, and then away. "It's not you," she conceded, exhaustion coating the words. "You have no flaws."

"Hardly. I'm sure you could catalog them from sunrise to sunset."

How she wished he were right! Maybe then she wouldn't feel this inescapable pull, wouldn't betray her sister's trust as her mind wandered to inexcusable places. "Perhaps you pulled my hair too tight in this braid after all." She offered the weak joke with a timid smile.

"That I can easily remedy." He set a warm hand on the nape of her neck, and she rolled her eyes.

"You and your hair."

He leaned forward to whisper against her forehead, "No, sweet Elphaba, _you_ and _your _hair."


	15. Burned

AN: Sorry for the long delay. My computer fried its wireless card, and the so-called overnight repair took a week and a half. A little shorter this week, but I should have the next chapter up by this weekend. Again, I apologize. As always, thank you for reading. Happy Holidays.

* * *

Elphaba lay awake for hours as sleep eluded her. She'd never felt so out of control. Her moods flashed back and forth so fast, she had whiplash. Try as she might, she couldn't snap out of this ridiculous fixation on Fiyero. His immunity to her venom frustrated her beyond belief. If she couldn't push him away either, what solution could there be? She abandoned her bed to pace.

"_Trust me, I've noticed."_

His comment rattled in her brain on an endless loop. Ugh, what did it matter what he meant? It mattered who he was - Nessa's fiancé. Oz, she hadn't even wanted to be friends with him, let alone his foolish admirer. She should never have come here.

She stole from her room and into Nessa's to watch the girl sleep. That's what she needed – a reminder of her responsibilities. Her job was to protect her sister, always had been. Nessa deserved better than this.

"Fabala?"

Elphaba knelt beside the bed. "Yes, my pretty?"

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be asleep?"

She brushed Nessa's hair back fondly. "Shouldn't you?"

"Come lie down with me." Elphaba crawled under the covers and slipped her arms around her little sister. "Makes it feel more like home."

She kissed the top of Nessa's head. "I'm glad."

"Do you think I'll ever go back home?"

"I hope so."

"But it won't be the same, will it?" Nessa burrowed her face in Elphaba's neck. "What will I do without you?"

"You'll have Fiyero," Elphaba struggled to keep her face even, but the words cut at her. "He'll take care of you." At the moment, she wasn't sure which she was more jealous of.

"I miss you."

Elphaba squeezed her shoulder. "I'm right here. How could you miss me?"

"I haven't seen you much since we've been here between your reading and those awful meetings." Nessa pulled back. "Tell me. You've spent time with Fiyero. I know he's working, but still, you must have noticed if he's…genuine."

Their cover. She read; he worked. Nothing shared but a room. Yet Nessa still assumed Elphaba knew her betrothed better? She studied the blanket. "You spend all morning with him. You'd know better."

"No, he's too distracted to talk about anything, and Master Grundo hardly lets us look at each other. He's too busy drilling us for the ball."

"Ball?" Elphaba made a face. "Don't you mean wedding?"

"First we have to survive the formal announcement of our engagement. Didn't Fiyero mention it to you?" Elphaba shook her head. "I'm surprised. You've got a role, also. I told Father you should meet with us, but he's convinced you'd offend Mr. Grundo."

"Why would I have a role?"

"You're my sister. Of course you have a role in my wedding." She swallowed, unable to think of an adequate reply. Silence stretched between them that suggested Nessa had fallen asleep. "Elphaba?"

"Yes, my sweet?"

"What does he do up there? Fiyero." Elphaba rolled her eyes. As if she wouldn't know who Nessa meant.

"He works," she preserved her honesty with a careful choice in words. "All for you, I'm sure."

"I doubt that." Nessa frowned. "I'm afraid he doesn't want to marry me."

"That's ridiculous. Why would anyone not want to marry you?"

"Look at me. Who would want a life with me?"

"Anyone. You're perf-"

"Fabala, don't. I'm not perfect. I'm…" She trailed off with tears threatening, and Elphaba smoothed her hair back.

"Listen to me: you are a beautiful, sweet angel that deserves an eternity of happiness."

Nessa whispered, "What if I'm a terrible wife?"

"You won't be."

"How can I give him what a husband needs?"

Elphaba flushed, desperately wishing she didn't have to explain. "Nessa, you're…fully…"

"Not that!" Her sister's pink skin deepened to red. "I mean, I can't ever hug him, or rub his shoulders after a long day of work. Or hold our children and rock them to sleep."

Images of Fiyero flooded her mind with herself in Nessa's place – running her hands though his hair, rubbing his broad shoulders, scratching her fingers down his back…she shook herself hard enough to rattle the bed. Elphaba flushed, grateful for the dark. "But you're-"

"Or he loves dancing," Nessa interrupted. "I'll never be able to give him that. Why would he want a life like that?" She swallowed a hiccup. "Why would anyone?"

Elphaba kissed her sister's forehead. "All that matters is he loves you."

"But he doesn't. What if he never does?"

"I don't know, Nessa." She smoothed the girl's hair, wishing she had a more useful answer. "I don't know." She controlled her wince as the first tear struck her water-sensitive skin, but Nessa leaned away.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Hush." Elphaba pulled her sister back to her. Each welt the tears brought felt like a badge of pride, as if she could literally take the pain on herself. She rocked Nessa until the girl fell into uneven sleep.

It was decided. Tomorrow this ended. Tomorrow, Fiyero would love Nessa, at knifepoint if necessary.

* * *

Elphaba flipped the page with enough force to rip the paper. Stupid Fiyero. Stupid men. She checked the tiny tear out of conscience (after all, it wasn't the book's fault), and Aruc looked up. "Alright?"

She glared at book and flicked the next page.

"Okay." Aruc dove back in his book before he became target to her fierce mood.

"So quiet today. Elphaba, tell me you didn't murder Aruc." Fiyero opened the door, grinning, only to meet her hostile glare head-on. His smile faltered. Aruc blurted out his goodbyes before anyone could trap him into staying, and he all but fled as Elphaba shut her book.

"Little different welcome today, huh."

She glared.

He gestured toward the door. "Did Aruc do something? Do I need to wring his neck for you?"

She glared.

"So it's me, then?" He slumped. "Any chance we can skip the argument and go straight to my apology?"

She glared.

He sighed. "I'm not stealing Nessa."

She glared harder.

"Well, I'm clearly not helping myself. Can you say something please?"

"Liar," she snarled.

He furrowed his brow. "Not quite as helpful as I was going for. How am I lying?"

She spun away from him. "What is the purpose of these lessons?"

He wheeled at her subject change. "Now I'm really confused. Are you mad at me for the lessons or the lies?"

"So you admit to lying!"

He held up his hands in defense. "I'm just trying to get some idea of what's going on."

She glared at him.

"Oh, Oz, not with the silence again." He scrubbed a face over his face. "Will you tell me what I did so I can grovel for forgiveness already?"

"Why should I make it easier on you? You never make it easier on anyone else."

He studied the ceiling as if praying for a miracle. "I have no idea what you mean."

"You do."

He shook his head. "I really, really don't." She stalked away more to stop herself from stabbing him through the heart with a fireplace poker than anything else. He couldn't love Nessa better lying dead on the floor. But he caught her wrist, "Hey, talk to me. Please." Fiyero frowned at her sharp intake of breath. He snatched her wrist toward him and slid her sleeve up to reveal the angry welts that marred her skin. "What the-"

"I'm fine." She yanked her arm away.

"You're not." He recaptured her and caressed the tender skin. "What happened?"

"They're from Nessa's tears, you- you- I can't think of anything bad enough!"

"What? How did they do this?"

"Is that your concern?" She struggled to free herself, but his grip held firm. "Shouldn't you be more worried about Nessa?"

He met her eyes. "Elphaba, I am genuinely sorry if I caused your sister pain, but I can't imagine how. At the moment, I'm far more worried about you." He traced her injuries again as if she were glass that might shatter. "How did they cause this?"

"If you must know, I'm allergic to water. And yes, I still manage to clean myself. And no, it's none of your business how." She wrenched her arm free and stormed to the sofa, struggling to control her fury.

"So you knew it would hurt you," he murmured, "but you let her cry on you anyway."

"Of course I did," she bit back. "She's my sister."

He studied her a long moment, an incomprehensible expression on his face.

"Elphaba." He said her name like a prayer, awed, and she blushed despite herself. "I will never understand you, as long as I live." He pulled her into his arms to kiss her forehead. "To be so selfless…You are the most amazing woman I have ever met. Crazy, but amazing."

She shoved him away. "You said I could trust you. Liar."

"How have I lied?"

"I can't trust you," she sneered. "How can you be so careless with her feelings?"

"With Nessa?" He held his eyes wide to prove his sincerity. "I don't see how I have been."

"She thinks you don't love her."

"I don't." He frowned. "She doesn't love me. It's an arranged marriage."

"She thinks you never will. That you never can."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not sure what you want from me."

"Convince her. Promise her you will."

"It would be a lie." He leaned his head back. "I can promise to take care of her, to be the best husband I can, but I can't promise to love her. It's beyond my control."

She scowled. "You won't try."

"Elphaba…"

"You don't care." She turned away from him to stare out the window. The anger left her breathless, and she whispered a pained, "You're hurting her."

His voice came soft, "I don't mean to."

"Then stop."

He smoothed his hands over her upper arms. "I wish I could."

She shook him off. "It's your choice." He replaced his hands, but she shook him off again. "You should be spending time with her."

"Do I not?"

"Not the same." She spun on him. "She thinks I know you better than she does. She says you don't even look at her in your meetings. That you look too distracted to care."

His face flushed guiltily. "I'm sorry. I will try harder to be attentive."

"How could you be so cavalier with her feelings?"

"How have I been cavalier?" he argued. "By being distracted in a boring meeting?"

"About your own wedding," she mocked, tapping a finger to her chin. "Hmm, I wonder."

He took a step back and forced himself to calm. "Is that all? I promise I'll look at her next time."

"You know there's more to it than that. Ugh, are you being deliberately dense?"

"What? What have I done that's so cruel? What?"

"As if you don't know! You toss Nessa off on Aruc so you can-" She bit her lip before she admitted more than she intended.

"Can what?" She turned her back to him, and though he struggled to turn her forward, her resistance kept it impossible. "He's keeping her company while we have our lessons. You have nothing to fear from Aruc. He's too busy pining over you."

She shifted at his answer. Perhaps he really didn't understand her frustration. Perhaps the impropriety, these treacherous feelings, were all her own. She was the only disloyal one. The guilt drew a shudder from her.

"Hey, no, don't be upset." He wrapped her in his arms. "I'm sorry. Whatever I did, I'll stop."

She should push him off, but he felt so reassuring, so solid against the turmoil she'd felt the last few days, that she couldn't. Instead she mollified her guilt by accusing him. "I should never have believed you," she mumbled into his chest. "You don't deserve her."

"I'm sorry." He rubbed her back in soothing circles. "I'll do everything in my power to be a good enough man to deserve your trust. I swear it."

The last of her anger deflated with his sincerity. Her voice ached to take it all back, assure him that she already considered him a good man, but she held herself back. She would control herself for Nessa. She would.

"Let's see about those burns." He pushed back her sleeve. "Are there more?" There were, all along her shoulder, but she shook her head. "Okay. Do they hurt?" Again, she shook her head.

He eyed her suspiciously.

"Why do I have the feeling you're lying to me?" She shrugged. "Fine. I guess I'll have to ask Nessa."

"No!" She scuttled away from him. "Don't!"

"Will you be honest?" She scowled, but nodded. "Now then, do they hurt?"

"A little." She crossed her arms. He gave her a leading look, and she let out a heavy sigh. "And I guess there's a few more."

"Where?"

Defeated, she mumbled, "My shoulder."

He led her out of the library and down a short hall to a room full of bandages and bottles. "Undo your dress."

"What?"

"So I can reach the burns."

"No!" She shoved him hard. "What is the matter with you?"

"What's the matter with _you_? You need them dressed, and you can't see them yourself. I don't see the problem."

"You're…" she blushed. "A man. I can't take off my dress!"

He swallowed a smile. "Just the shoulder. Nothing indecent."

"Can't we leave it be? I've lived through plenty without your interference before."

"Well, too bad. I care about you, and I'm not going to let you be in pain, or let it get infected, because you're too proud to let me help you."

"So instead you follow this heartfelt promise to be a good husband to my sister by getting me naked?"

"I hardly think you would get naked for me to dress your shoulder." He avoided her eyes, suppressing a grin. "Although, if you're so inclined…"

"Shut up. Oz, you'll be the death of me." She shoved his chest hard, but with a sigh, undid her dress enough to expose her shoulder through the neckline.

Fiyero swallowed. He stared at the burns as if his eyes could apply the salve, though she didn't remember any on her neck or clavicle.

"Can you hurry? This is humiliating enough."

He nodded and set to work swabbing the burns. She desperately tried to ignore how his fingertips brushed against her bare skin – warm…soft…gentle. She gulped an unsteady breath. "Sorry," he muttered and lightened his touch, drawing out her new torture. He traced lower to reach the burns bordering on the swell of her chest, and they both drew a ragged breath. "There."

She straightened her dress and fastened it with eyes trained on the ground.

He set the salve back and cleared his throat. "Ready?"

They walked back to the library, avoiding each other's eyes. "Thank you," she muttered. "Even though I didn't ask you to. Or need you to. Or even want you to."

He grinned at her. "Well, when you put it that way, I sound like a real cad." She gave a half-shrug and a haughty smirk. If the shoe fits…

She went through the door to the library, and froze. "There you are," Nessa eyed them curiously. "Where were you?"


	16. Helping

AN: An early start to my resolutions...Thanks for reading and Happy New Year!

* * *

"Walking," Elphaba blurted out right as Fiyero gave some other excuse.

He cleared his throat, "She means, we took a walk down the hall as a quick break, and on the way I took care of some errands." He turned to Elphaba with a smooth, "Thank you, again, for accompanying me."

"And you," she stumbled through the words. "For the break. From reading. Which is what I was doing before that." His smile tightened, and Aruc studied her with a curious expression. About as subtle as a Horse-of-a-Different-Color.

Nessa looked from one to the other, and she pursed her lips. "Right." She turned to Fiyero with guarded hope, "Have you finished your work today?"

"As much as I needed to." He shot a look back to Elphaba with an uncertain, "I think."

She rolled her eyes, but a small smile twitched at her lips. Aruc took a cautious step forward. "You look like you're in a better mood." She arched an eyebrow, and he stepped back. "Not that you were in a bad mood before. Or that you shouldn't be, or anything. You're entitled to whatever mood you might be, um, in the mood for, as it were."

Fiyero laughed. "Don't torment the poor boy." He pivoted to face Aruc. "She was upset with me, not you."

"Whatever for?" Nessa asked.

"Don't worry. I've apologized, and I have every intention to avoid doing it again." Fiyero made a point to peer down at her fondly, and Nessa blinked up at him, surprised with this sudden rush of affection, before suspicion crept into her face.

She sent Elphaba a hard stare. "You didn't…I mean…last night…"

"Now share with the group." Aruc perked up. "Tell me it involved pillow fights, and I'll die a happy man." Elphaba repaid his eager look with a withering one of her own. "Perhaps sooner than I expected, but worth it nonetheless."

Fiyero shook his head at their antics and set a warm hand on the back of Nessa's neck. "Not to worry. I simply offended her through my own reckless choice of wording. Nothing to dwell on. I'll pay more attention next time."

"I don't see why you had to tell everyone." Elphaba shoved a loose strand of hair behind her ear with a frown. "It's none of their concern." Fiyero gestured toward Aruc, and she leveled a look. "Oh please. It's not as if I were torturing him. If he's that easily frightened, I should think he has bigger problems."

"Hey! I'm not-"

Fiyero interrupted, "You've never been on the other side of your anger. I couldn't let him suffer for my faults."

"You make it sound as if I'm a timid little woodland creature." Aruc puffed out his chest. "I'm a man." Elphaba burst into hysterical cackles, and he gave Fiyero a teasing shove. "I thought you were supposed to be helping me. And you." Aruc swung to advance on Elphaba with a swagger. "Watch yourself, or I'll show you how manly I am."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Oh?" Aruc looped his arms around her waist and pressed her to him. Lips close, he teased, "Would you now?"

She dug her elbow into his ribs. "I'd suggest you let me go before you hurt yourself."

"That's enough." At Fiyero's restraining hand, Aruc released Elphaba with a frown. "No one's questioning your manhood." Fiyero shot her a warning look, so she contented herself with a mocking shrug. He turned back to Nessa. "What are we going to do with these two?"

"Oh, I leave that in the hands of the Unnamed God. Only he can work miracles."

Fiyero laughed. "Nessarose, I had no idea you shared your sister's wit. Beautiful, sweet, and intelligent." He traced a fingertip over the girl's cheekbone. "I am a quite a lucky man." His eyes flicked up to Elphaba's, and she forced a small, steely smile. So he did intend to live up to his promises after all. His hand found Nessa's back as they reached the stairs, steadying her with a careless ease that had taken their father months to learn. "Perhaps we should lock the two of them in a room together."

Nessa matched his conspiratorial whisper. "Do you think?"

"Oh no. They'd kill each other for sure."

"You mean, Elphaba would." Nessa giggled and fluttered her eyelashes. "Not that Aruc isn't a capable fighter…"

"No, you're quite right. She would murder him in minutes."

Elphaba snorted derisively. "I'm right here, you know. I can hear you two plotting."

Fiyero tossed back a glance as they reached the bottom step. "I'm aware." She glowered at the back of his head and childishly stuck her tongue out. Nessa saw and burst into laughter, which Aruc misinterpreted to be at his expense.

He ground his jaw and grunted, "So nice to see you all discussing my destruction by a woman."

"No offense, mate." Fiyero clapped him on the shoulder. "If it helps, she'd probably murder me, too. Just look at her." They all swiveled to face Elphaba, who folded her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. "She's too clever for the likes of us. And no amount of strength is a worthy match against a woman's wiles."

"Oh, I'd wile him to death, would I?"

Aruc broke into a reluctant grin. "If I must die, I can't think of a better way. You may have something there after all." Fiyero waved his hand as if inviting agreement, and she rolled her eyes at them both.

"And you wonder why I spend half my time angry with one or both of you."

They had at least the decency to look chagrinned. Aruc ducked his head. "You're right. We're sorry." He elbowed Fiyero in the side with a less than quiet, "Why am I the only one groveling?"

"I've done my share of groveling already today."

Aruc made a face as he remembered this morning. He struck a finger in Fiyero's chest with a playful, "Fine. But you owe me." He bent to her in a deep bow. "Oh beautiful, fiery, and I pray merciful, Miss Elphaba…" He knelt to kiss her hand with chivalrous flair. "I beg you accept our most humble and penitent apologies."

"Get up, you fool. Am I supposed to be impressed?"

"You're right, milady. I was a fool. Foolish to have risked your displeasure for any slight, no matter the cost. Of course I would endure humiliation and slander against my masculinity for the sake of your favor, most beautiful and enchanting Elphaba."

"Don't forget brilliant," Fiyero supplied, and Aruc amended his praise to include the adjective.

"You two are hopeless."

"That I am." Aruc groveled impishly. "Hopeless for your love, dear madame."

"Then you shall remain quite hopeless."

"Fabala, have mercy," Nessa appealed. Her sweet gaze begged sympathy for the kneeling man, and Aruc played up the scene by adopting a pitiable expression as close to a wounded puppy as possible as a face could contort. Elphaba remained impassive until Nessa repeated her name, several times, in a stern voice. "He's my friend. Stop making him grovel. Fabala…"

"Fine, get up. You're forgiven, you obnoxious brute."

Fiyero beamed at Nessa with both hands held out in veneration. "Our savior at last."

"The Unnamed God preaches such forgiveness in all things. He is our true savior."

His smile faltered. "Yes. Of course." He glanced over at Elphaba and firmed his resolve. "Still, it was kind of you to rescue my friend."

"Yes, dear, sweet, compassionate Nessarose." Aruc wrapped his arms around her waist and swung her in a wide circle. "My hero! My champion in skirted armor!"

Elphaba leapt forward to stop them, but Fiyero caught her. "No, no," he whispered. "Have some faith in him." She watched helplessly as Aruc swung her sister once more and set her on her feet. The girl tottered, but did not fall. Nessa giggled, and Elphaba relaxed. Fiyero let out a breath, "See. She's alright." He squeezed Elphaba's hand, and then assumed a charismatic smile. "Okay. That's enough touching my fiancée. Haven't you a girl of your own to capture?"

"He didn't mean it like that," Nessa reassured him. "Truthfully."

"I know. But for the principle of the matter…"

"Sorry, mate." Aruc flashed a cheeky grin. "Had to get some practice in for the ball, and I value my limbs too much to attempt the bewitching Miss Elphaba again so soon."

"You knew about it?" she blurted out before she could stop herself. She whirled to face Nessa. "Am I the last one to find out about this ball?"

Nessa studied the ground, and Fiyero shifted awkwardly. "I suppose I should tell you now about the gowns, then."

"Gowns?"

"Of course, Fabala," Nessa pursed her lips with a hint of impatience. "It's a ball. You have gowns for a ball."

"But we don't have any gowns."

Fiyero pulled at his collar. "That's why I'm having them made for you."

"You're what?"

She took a step forward, and he matched with a step back, hands held high. "This is why I didn't tell you."

"Oh, stop it." The annoyance in her sister's voice caught Elphaba's attention. "We need them, and he's been generous enough to arrange for them. We owe him our gratitude."

She frowned, unable to think of a fair argument, and muttered an unelaborate thanks in Fiyero's general direction. Aruc's jaw dropped. "Are you serious?" He looked back and forward between little Nessa and spiny Elphaba and clutched Fiyero's arm. "Did you see that? Tell me it really happened. Tell me I haven't gone mad."

"What? You thought me such a shrew my own sister's unhappiness would bounce off me like nothing?"

Aruc's eyes widened. "I didn't mean-"

"If I'm so heartless, why would you want to harass me in endless pursuit of my affection?"

He appealed to Fiyero, who stepped between them to set a hand on her shoulder. "You're not mad at him; you're mad at me for the gowns." She started to protest, but he cut her off. "I should have told you, and I'm sorry. Can we please not fight anymore today?" She took in his sincerity and softened. His eyes dropped to her hand, drawing her own there as his thumb traced small patterns on her palm. Their silent apology lasted at most ten seconds, but it seemed a private eternity. When she looked up, Nessa had engaged Aruc in conversation about the ball and what their customs here. Fiyero eyed the pair long enough to deem their attention captured, and he subtly slipped up Elphaba's sleeve. "How are the burns?"

She glanced wide-eyed toward Nessa, but her sister hadn't heard. "Fine," she hissed, nodding toward the others.

Before she could pull away, his fingers wound between hers, all the harder to shake off. He held her hand low enough not to gain notice and inspected the injured skin as they trailed their friends toward the dining hall. "The color's better. You're certain it doesn't hurt?"

She started to bark the usual "Fine," but his look challenged her not to lie. She sighed, "It stings a little, but much less than before."

"Good," he caressed the skin with a delicate touch. "And your shoulder?"

"Also better." He gave a sober nod and continued his gentle examination. She forced herself to whisper a sincere, "Thank you."

His smile was soft where it met the ground. With aching slowness, he drew his eyes to hers, and she shifted as he held her gaze. "You are most certainly welcome," he said less like a response than a promise. She blushed. He shot a look to Nessa, but she remained occupied with Aruc. "How long do they usually last?"

"It depends. Why?"

"Let me know if they haven't faded enough by tomorrow, and I'll have the tailor alter your dress."

To hide them. Nessa would never have to see them at all. Elphaba met his eyes, willing the gratitude to show. He brushed her cheek, and she peeked at her sister again. Nessa didn't even seem to notice their absence, and Elphaba realized the many hours alone with Aruc had acclimated their friendship as it had hers and Fiyero's. "I'll show you tomorrow then so you can decide. I don't even know when the ball is."

"Can I?" His eyes widened in surprise. "After such a fight to dress them in the first place."

"Do you mean my shoulder, then? Doesn't the gown already cover that?"

He grinned.

"Fiyero!"

"Shh!" He nodded toward the others in warning. "Let's just say I'm glad I got to provide the gowns."

"You better not have put me in some trollop's dress."

He eyed her with a roguish grin. "Not a bad picture."

"You cad!" She pushed his shoulder in mock annoyance. "What about Nessa? Surely you didn't make her dress revealing?"

"Of course not. She's my fiancée. You think I want the roomful of men ogling her?"

"But you're fine if they ogle me."

"How else am I to accomplish Aruc's deep desire to see those beautiful clavicles you're hiding?"

She turned her back to hide her blush. "You discuss my clavicles?"

"Of course not." He chuckled as he spun her around to face him. "Why do you persist in having as little faith in me as possible?"

"You're the one stuffing me into an indecent gown."

"I sincerely doubt that. Unless you're offering?"

"Stop it." His insincere banter fueled her imagination until it caught like wildfire. "If you must give me some awful, frilly gown, at least make it a modest dress. I'm not a harlot."

"Elphaba, you are far too easy to tease." He tilted her face to his. "Your dress is perfectly modest. I have no desire to have you ogled by other men, either. You are as covered as is tasteful in such a gown, and beyond that, you would have to appeal to my mother. I have lost the argument."

"I'll have to thank her, then," she tossed back haughtily, and he lifted his eyebrows.

"I thought you opposed skin showing?"

"You mean…oh. You argued for a modest dress?"

He prodded her gently to keep pace with the others. "You're so surprised? Well, thank you for the vote of confidence, but I'm not a lout. I know you well enough to speak on your behalf in this, I think."

"But you said-"

Fiyero shook his head in disbelief. "You are much too easy a mark." He squeezed her hand. "I shall try not to be so convincing."

They reached the dining room, and Fiyero excused himself to recapture his fiancée. She watched him seat Nessa, impressed by his attempts to honor his promise. He caught her staring and held out the chair on his other side. For a long moment, he held her gaze. She chewed her lip, considering what consequences this surrender could mean. But the cautious hope on his face won her over. She sat in the offered chair.

Though he hid it, his broad grin shone through its restrictions. She braced for his gloating, but he took his place beside her without comment. He gripped her hand tightly under the table, and she studied her lap as her own smile blossomed unrequested across her face. Throughout the rest of dinner, he managed to eat and feed Nessa, beam attentively at his fiancée and charm the table with avid conversation – all while tracing soft patterns on her hand held in his. For her part, Elphaba couldn't stop beaming long enough to master a bite.

* * *

"Let me see."

Elphaba darted away from Fiyero before he could reach her sleeve. "No. They're terrible. Hideous. You've got to cover my entire body in that gown."

He gave her a look. "Give me your arm." She shook her head, and when he repeated it, she ducked away right before his fingers closed on her arm. "You said I should decide, so on with it." He made another reach, and she spun away from him. They repeated their cat and mouse game another couple turns. "Enough. Show and tell, little girl."

"Have I offended your manliness, too, then, by besting you?"

"Who says you bested me?" He smirked, and she dodged him again - to find herself trapped in a corner. He licked his lips. "And those silly tricks you use on Aruc won't work on me. I have no insecurity about my manhood."

"You're the one who tricked me."

"No." He herded her toward the wall, and try as she might, there was nowhere to run. "I trapped you. Hunter, remember?"

"Ugh, please don't remind me. I could almost have liked you without it."

"Could you have?" He ran his eyes over her until she squirmed. "Perhaps I should reconsider."

"Perhaps you should." She jutted her chin out and attempted to brazenly parade past him, as if she had every right to escape his little trap. Shoulders back and head high, she fooled him enough that he didn't stop her.

Until she reached his side. He caught her waist, and she yelped in surprise. "Sneaking off?"

"Hardly sneaking." She tried to ignore his breath against her neck as he held her immobile and pulled her sleeve back. He frowned and checked the other arm to make sure it wasn't a trick of his memory.

"They're gone."

"Pretty faint," she confessed. "It was worth a try, though."

"Show me your shoulder. Is it the same?"

She nodded, and when he tilted her head to look at her sternly, she groused, "Why do I have to show you? I already confessed."

"Uh, uh." He shook his finger. "After you made me chase you around the library, I'm no longer in a believing sort of mood. Off you go."

She undid her dress with a pout, and he inspected her shoulder where the worst burns had been. Satisfied he leaned back. "Good. I'm glad that salve worked."

She refastened her dress, the feel of his fingers still tingling on her skin. "I'm not. Now I have to wear that terrible gown." The tiny buttons wouldn't slip through the holes, and she let out a frustrated grunt. Fiyero stepped behind her and set to work on the tiny buttons with a facile hand.

"It's not terrible. You'll look lovely. You would in anything. Now stop fretting about fashion and teach me something useful."

She shoved his arm with a half-teasing scowl. "That's impossible. You're as useless as they come."

"Fixed your burns, didn't I?"

"You cad! Who asked you to? Ugh, you're obnoxious."

He fenced her in again, a charming smile in full force. "Then teach me not to be."

"Impossible." She shook her head in mock regret, and he advanced with an equally false indignation. She produced one of Nessa's shawls as much to escape his charm as to work. "How are you at folding?"

He fell serious at once. "Fine, I suppose. Though I admit to having more than my share of experience draping shawls."

"Oh? I thought you claimed not to chase women."

He laughed. "Only you, and quite literally. Though you seem quite talented at making men chase after you." Elphaba colored at the memory. "At least I managed not to burst into a meeting in front of king and country."

"The shawls?"

"It's courteous, and I have much occasion to demonstrate my courtesy, considering."

"Princely duties?" He nodded, and she subconsciously mimicked the gesture. "Here. See if you can fold it like Nessa wears." He set the shawl on her shoulders, and she clasped her arms to her sides as similar to Nessa's physique as she could manage. "The other side longer." He shifted it, forehead furrowed in concentration. She held herself still, but without her arms to balance, she wobbled.

"You alright?"

"I'd be fine if you'd stop pulling on it so hard."

"I thought you wanted it longer?"

"Can't you do that without bouncing me around so much?" She looked down to inspect his work. "Well. That took far less time than I expected."

"Finally impressed you, did I?"

"Yes, yes, you're very impressive. Now untie me."

The way his lips quirked upward spelled trouble. "I think I prefer you all tied up and at my mercy. No running, no chasing... Quite an improvement, I'd say." She stuck her tongue out at him. "Careful." He leaned close enough that she felt his breath on her cheek. "You may not want to tempt me right now."

"Is that so?"

"Mmm." He slid his hands from her arms to her shoulders to her neck, her eyes widening in correspondence with each location. When he reached her braid, she sensed his trick. She stepped back, only to trip on the rug and tumble toward the ground. Without her arms to brace her fall, she winced in preparation for a solid hit…but Fiyero caught her before she could reach the floor. He took the opportunity with her bundled up and off her feet to carry her to the couch.

"Fiyero whatever-your-last-name-is, you had better let me down this very instant or I'll-" He dropped her on the cushions without ceremony and started toward her braid. "Wait until I get free. You're going to regret this."

"I'm sure I will."

"Fine, fine. Let me up, and I'll teach you another way to braid." He eyed her with suspicion. "You did well on the other lesson. I guess you can have your crazy version of a reward."

"Or," he traced a finger from her forehead to cheek, tucking a loose strand behind her ears at a snail's pace, "I can keep you tied up here and do whatever I'd like." Her heart sped up as she wondered what that might entail. She swallowed hard even as her conscience berated her imagination. "Which is beyond tempting," he said in a husky tone. She didn't dare speak for fear of how she'd sound, but she managed a very weak glare. "But I suppose you're right. I'd rather you be willing." He flashed her a wink and set to work untying her.

When free, she gave him a shove.

"Hey! I let you go."

She crossed her arms. "And so you get to keep all your body parts intact."

He circled behind her to untie her braid, unaffected by her threats. "You should wear it down for the ball."

"Why? So you can tangle it every time you pass me."

"Mmm." He nosed her temple. "I like that."

"When is this ball, anyway?"

He didn't answer at first, so she nudged him. "I don't want to say. You'll get upset, and you won't let me near your hair."

"You are such a woman."

He gave her a dry look. "Hardly."

"Tell me when it is. I won't be upset." He lifted an eyebrow. "I promise."

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow!"

"You said you wouldn't be upset." He rooted his fingers in her hair. "I tried to warn you."

She pulled back to glare at him, "You weren't going to tell me?"

"I was hoping Nessa would. You wouldn't yell at her."

"Coward."

"If this is life as a coward," he paused to tangle his fingers in her hair and stroke the nape of her neck, "sign me up."


	17. Dancing

The next day sped away faster than Elphaba could have imagined it. Nessa flitted about, pestering her sister to dress, brush, groom and reassure her until Elphaba's patience teetered an inch from snapping. Somehow, in the midst of restyling her sister's hair for the fourth time to correct three wayward strands, Elphaba managed to squeeze herself into her designated gown and drag a brush through her uncooperative hair. Nessa's wrinkled nose drove her back to the mirror, and with an intense sigh, Elphaba dotted her eyes and lips with the absolute barest makeup possible.

All this fuss for an evening with some strangers that she couldn't be bothered to care about and the same people who saw her everyday. What was the point?

In Fiyero's defense, the dress inflicted on her could have been far worse. While not black, it was at least dark, and its modesty only vaguely pushed the boundaries of her own sensibilities. She could have done with fewer frills and laces, and a bit more breathing room, but it would do.

"Fabala, could you straighten my shawl?"

She suppressed her annoyance to adjust the garment. "It wouldn't slide around if you'd stop pacing."

"What if I'm a disaster? What if everyone laughs at me?"

"You'll be fine, and if anyone laughs, I'll hang them out the window by their toes." Nessa frowned, and Elphaba set a hand on her shoulder, careful not to muss even a hair. "Oh, silly girl, stop worrying. Fiyero will be there. He'll know what to do. Just follow him."

"What about you?"

"I suppose I'll be stuck with Aruc, but it could be worse. He's almost interesting when he isn't trying to trick me into a betrothal." Elphaba tied the straps of her requisite impractical shoes around her ankle. "Let's hope he doesn't get the brilliant idea that your engagement deserves another."

Nessa's genuine smile lasted at least two seconds before hardening into anxiety again. "How do I look?"

"As fine as the last time I told you." A knock came, and Elphaba answered the door with a sigh of relief as Nessarose headed to rouse their father. "About time. She's been pacing…oh," she wound down, her thoughts freezing. That man in formal wear should be illegal.

Fiyero bumped her chin with a finger. "You look nice, too."

She scowled. "I never said you looked nice." But he did. Boy, did he ever.

"Sure, you didn't."

"Perhaps the crazy voices you hear are getting conceited again."

"Have to be. Oz knows you'll offer no encouragement." His arrogant grin only enhanced the boyish charm oozing from his polished appearance, but she'd rather eat live worms that admit that. "You wore your hair down."

"For fear you'd assault it if I attempted otherwise."

He twisted a lock between his fingertips and watched it unwind when he dropped it. "Quite wise."

Elphaba's eyes darted about the room to make sure Nessa hadn't returned, and her face turned serious. "You'll take care of my sister?"

"Of course."

"She's nervous. I told her that you wouldn't let her look foolish, and I'd hate to be made a liar."

Fiyero squeezed her hand. "There's nothing to worry about."

"Yes, good. Tell that to Nessa."

"Yes, ma'am." He looked back, and Elphaba turned to see her pretty sister with a sweet blush highlighting her delicate cheeks. "Miss Nessarose. If you would do me the honor?" Nessa bit her lip and with a quick glance to her father, stepped forward. He set a hand on her back and addressed Frexspar. "If you might pardon me, good sir, my mother has tasked me to bring you with us."

Elphaba watched them walk down the hallway with the oddest feeling of exclusion. All these years an outcast, by choice and by prejudice, and she'd never felt it until now. As if she should be the center of the group, and not the fourth wheel, as it were, left behind to rust outside. Fiyero leaned to her father with some words that didn't carry to her, and Frexspar glanced back. "Don't stand there gaping. You'll make us late."

"I…"

"Come along. We haven't all day."

"Oh." She trailed after them. "Isn't? Oh."

They reached the courtyard, and Elphaba felt like she faced a test that she'd hadn't known to prepare for. Unsettled, she turned to Fiyero, but his attention rested fully on his fiancée. She watched him smile at Nessa and whisper something reassuring, and for that moment, she'd never felt so jealous of her sister. Now that she considered it, Nessa had mentioned that Elphaba would play some sort of part in tonight, but she'd never thought to ask what. What would she have to do? She dreaded ruining her sister's night after so tedious a preparation.

Fiyero engaged her father in meaningless conversation, and Elphaba hissed by her sister's ear, "Nessa."

Nessa jumped and spun, teetering on her heels. Fiyero caught her shoulder without looking and pulled her into his side to smooth a reassuring hand over her back. She blinked back with wide, frantic eyes. "What? Do I have something on me?"

Elphaba leaned back. "No. You look beautiful."

"What then?"

Her sister's anxiety brought out her protective side, and Elphaba faked a smile. "Nothing." The poor girl had enough to worry about. "Everything's going to be fine." Nessa attempted a wilted smile of her own and turned back to Fiyero.

Now what? Should she interrupt Fiyero and ask? She didn't dare with her short-tempered father there. He'd banish her to their rooms without blinking an eye and swear he had only one daughter. Her sister needed her. She couldn't abandon Nessa, even with Fiyero at her side. Elphaba crossed her arms. Well, she was clever enough. She'd manage to figure it out. And if not, it wouldn't be the first time Elphaba had embarrassed herself.

"Good evening." Aruc appeared in the opposite entrance, and Elphaba nearly threw herself at him. "You look stunning, Miss Nessarose." He gave a courtly bow. "And you, Miss Elphaba. As beautiful as when I first saw you."

"Then I needn't have bothered with the extra effort." But she linked her arm with his before he even offered it.

Fiyero glanced at her, but he quickly returned his attention to Nessa. Elphaba tried not to let the surprise show on her face. It wasn't like him to let such an opportunity to goad her slide. Was he really that captivated in Nessa's fluttering eyelashes? She focused on Aruc, squeezing his arm in gratitude. "Miss me?" he teased, and she rolled her eyes. But she set her other hand on his arm as well, anchoring herself to him in the hopes of surviving this disconcerting ignorance.

"Please tell me you've any idea what we're supposed to do."

Aruc laughed. "You never asked?"

"I forgot to."

His grin shifted. "I'm afraid I'm of no use. I'll see you after the introductions, though. I demand at least one dance, no arguments."

"You're not my escort?"

He blinked at her question, taken aback, and then cupped her cheek. "I wish, pretty girl. I wish."

With a quick kiss to her hand, a firm handshake with Fiyero, and an awkward nod to her father, Aruc disappeared down the hall, leaving her decidedly anchor-less. She sought out Fiyero, but his attention was occupied in greeting his parents. "Ready?" he asked Nessa, and she nodded. Elphaba wished someone thought to ask her.

She sighed and turned to her father in surrender. "So what are we to do?"

He set his cold eyes on her. "Don't embarrass me, girl."

"Course," she muttered. "No hope there."

An announcement rang, and the king and queen led the procession, the epitome of confidence and grace. Her father gripped her arm and thrust her out next. She clung to Frexspar's arm, attempting to ignore the many eyes that widened at the sight of her hideous skin. A few whispers broke out, and she rolled her eyes. They reached their position in time to see the honored couple in the last leg of their parade. Fiyero's handsome confidence with Nessa's coy beauty made such an elegant picture, and he beamed at his soon-to-be bride with a focused look that should have allayed all her sister's fears weeks ago.

Elphaba squirmed beside her father, and he pinched her. She jerked, wide-eyed, and met his stony gaze. "Behave," he growled under his breath, and she poised, a snarky retort on the edge of her tongue. Luckily, Nessa glanced over, and Elphaba forced herself to calm for her sister's sake. She wouldn't ruin Nessa's night. Not even to spite her father. Fiyero followed Nessa's look, and as soon as his eyes met Elphaba's, he ripped them away. She flinched at the suddenness. Since when was she so offensive to him?

The king stepped forward and halted the applause to formally welcome them all. With a noble bow, he addressed her father, "We thank you, most honored guests, for the gift of your charming daughter."

Frexspar hauled her forward. "We thank you, most noble monarchs, for the generosity of your eldest son."

The queen chimed next, "May the grace of your presence honor our land."

All eyes swung to Elphaba, and she gaped. She faced her father with a bewildered look, to which he glared. "Um, to you as well?" His glare deepened, and she fumbled, "May the, um, kindness of your, um, mercy bless my sister. Oh, and Fiyero - I mean, the prince."

Fiyero smiled despite himself. Swallowing his mirth, he proclaimed a dignified, "We welcome you, kind friends and family, to share in our happiness."

With eyes closed, Nessa intoned solemnly. "May the Unnamed God shine upon our union and our most beloved guests."

"Please, echo our happiness for this good fortune and our hope for this cherished uniting." The king lifted his hands, and the room burst into applause. "May the celebration begin." Triumphant music burst through the air, echoing in the large chamber, and Elphaba breathed a sigh of relief. It must be over.

And then the unnamed hoards descended.

She must have had her hand kissed at least a hundred times from the line of well-wishers. Not that there were a mere hundred in attendance. The large ballroom was bursting with people, all decorated in their finest finery and dazzled with their most valuable valuables. And all seemingly intent on blithering a personal blessing to the couple and their families. A rotund elf of a man iced in glittering rubies pressed a lingering kiss to her hand with some words of flattery he might have borrowed from Aruc, and she forced a tense smile. Speaking of Aruc, where was that scoundrel? Hadn't he said after introductions? Oz, how much longer did that last?

A nightmarish image of hours trapped in shallow flattery and indiscriminative kisses to her already itching hand flashed through her mind, all the more terrifying by its distinct possibility. She scanned the crowd for him, but could find nothing familiar in the sea of faces. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, as close to pacing as she could manage. Finally, she caught sight of him weaving through the long line of well-wishers. Aruc stole his way to the podium and caught her hand. "I've come to rescue you."

Elphaba glanced at Fiyero, caught in polite conversation with some elderly man covered in medals, and with his arm around Nessa, who bobbed her head in an endless polite nod at every word. "Thank Oz."

"Master Thropp, might I be honored with the company of your eldest daughter?"

Frexspar spared him an irritated nod, and Aruc tucked her hand under his arm. The tension dropped from her shoulders with each step they took from the podium. "Aruc, you are a godsend."

He grinned and steered her toward a buffet of delicious-looking appetizers. "Lucky for you there's no formal banquet anymore. I heard those lasted hours before the celebration began." She groaned and shuddered. He held out a small puff pastry. "It's made from bryla, which I seem to recall you prefer?" She took the pastry with an eager nod. "I figured you hadn't had a chance to eat."

She hadn't, and her stomach took the opening to complain. Whether by hunger or flavor, the bryla pastry was beyond delicious, and she gave a blissful sigh. "You're an angel."

"Careful," Aruc leaned in to wipe a crumb from the corner of her mouth. "You'll overwhelm me at this rate. I can almost imagine enjoying your favor."

She arched an eyebrow. "I sincerely hope you meant friendship."

"And she's back. Farewell hopes."

Elphaba patted his cheek in sympathy. "More bryla, less flattery."

"Yes, ma'am." He slipped away to gather various pastries and fruits, and she took the opportunity to study the grand ballroom. The line to the podium stretched at least fifty deep, winding between several of the sculpted ivory columns that ringed the large room, and she breathed another sigh of relief to be free from that mess. Ornate chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling like clusters of stars, flickering a romantic air to the formal gathering. A crowd of well-dressed Vinkans loitered around the smooth polished floor, snacking, talking, wandering about – but none of them dancing.

She turned to ask Aruc why, and her spin carried her into a tall, willowy woman who glowered condescendingly. "Sorry."

The woman lifted one perfectly manicured eyebrow to study her. "Hmm."

Elphaba's face slipped into its familiar scowl. "Yes, well. It was an accident, so no sense in taking offense."

The woman chuckled with a superior air and cast an amused look to the ladies flanking her. "Well, well, well." She stalked around Elphaba, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "So this is the new fiancée for our dear prince? So…green."

Elphaba flushed. "Nessarose is his fiancée, and my skin tone is of none of your concern."

The woman widened her eyes in exaggerated surprise. "You mean the little one? I had assumed that was a mistake. She's so young, and so small. Surely she's not meant to be wife to our strapping prince."

"She is. And he's lucky to have her." Elphaba bristled at the woman's nerve. "Who are you to criticize?"

"Oh, I remember you now." She played back to her audience. "The eloquent one hanging on the father's arm." Elphaba colored as the lackeys sniggered. "Hmmm." Another circuit around her, this time dripping with disdain. "Too young to be the mother, even for that child. Are you his concubine, then? Or a rich-dreaming second wife?"

"I'm his daughter!"

She eyed the others with a catlike grin. "How scandalous."

"Not at all, as you well know." Aruc arrived with a hand on Elphaba's back, and he handed her a glass. "Your punch, milady."

"So she's yours, then?"

"Excuse me? I'm not anyone's," Elphaba hissed. The woman lifted an eyebrow and sent a snide smirk to her cronies.

"What do you want, Three? You'll find no one interested here." He heaved a weary sigh and set their food on a waiter's stand. Subtly he inserted himself between Elphaba and the distasteful woman as he asked, "She is bothering you, yes?"

She crossed her arms. "A very emphatic yes."

Three pursed her lips. "Please pardon, then." She shared another knowing look with her followers and glided into the crowd with a final sarcastic, "So lovely to meet you."

"Who was that?"

"Sarima's sister, Three." He made a face. "Though unfortunately nothing like her." She started to ask more, but a trumpet sounded. "Come on." Aruc hauled her toward the podium. "They're about to start the dance." By the time they'd gotten close enough to see through the thick ring of spectators, Fiyero had led Nessa down the steps to middle of the floor.

"What's he doing?"

"Starting the dance. Tradition."

She pulled hard on Aruc's hand, and he stopped his charge forward to look at her. "Nessa can't dance. She hasn't any arms."

"I think he might have noticed that already." Aruc pulled her forward again, and they reached the edge right as Fiyero slipped his hands to either side of Nessa's waist. Nessa blushed, aware that no one could help noticing her unique lacking. But the waltz began, and Fiyero flashed a reassuring smile. Elphaba clutched Aruc's hand, clinging to him as if her will could float her sister through this unscathed. Aruc squeezed her hand, but didn't bother with any ineffectual reassurance.

Fiyero guided her through the dance by maneuvering her waist rather than a traditional lead. Nessa only had to stumble through the steps without toppling into him. He saw to the rest. Despite the uneven pairing, Fiyero managed a sort of grace with their dance that impressed the crowd. Elphaba couldn't help but think what a talented dancer he must be as he guided her sister through a gentle turn. The tempo stayed slow and the dance tame, but she still held her breath as Nessa fumbled around the floor. They managed the whole waltz without incident, thanks to Fiyero's management, and the crowd burst into applause, which he acknowledge with a shallow bow and an open arm. "Please. Join us."

The surge forward carried an unwilling Elphaba along to the center of the floor, and Aruc wrapped his arms around her. "You planned this," she accused, and his grin was answer enough.

Aruc refused to release Elphaba for the next six songs, and her feet ached with their awkward stumbling. He spun her wildly, "You make a marvelous dance partner, you know."

"You mean unwilling."

He shrugged, whirling her in the opposite direction. "Partner, captive. It's all a matter of semantics anyway."

"Is it, now?"

He lifted her in time to the boisterous music and set her on the opposite side, and again, and again. They spun one way, and then the other until her skirt flared. She groaned as he began another set of lifts. When he finally released her waist, she struggled to stay upright. "Don't you know this dance?"

"Not much for dancing." She fought to breathe as he led her in a circle around him. "Certainly not so vigorously."

He burst into laughter, and though she colored, she couldn't help but join in. "Far be it from me to be too vigorous for the energetic Miss Elphaba. I'll try to curb my enthusiasm." He pulled her into a traditional stance and winked. "Shall we slow down, then?"

He asked in time with the start of a slower tune, and she sighed. "Or we could stop."

"And miss the chance to hold you without a slap? I think not."

She rolled her eyes as he pulled her closer. "And if I slap you anyway?"

"Worth it."

They circuited the floor in their poor version of a waltz, narrowly avoiding collisions with several couples until she stepped on his foot to avoid an unexpected dip. They tumbled to the ground, much to the annoyance of those they hit, but with her backward twist, they managed to fall to the edge of the onlookers and avoid trampling. Elphaba scrambled to right herself, surprised when a hand offered itself. For the first time in hours, she looked up into a familiar pair of warm brown eyes.

"Had a tumble?"

She brushed off her dress with a haughty frown. "Obviously."

Fiyero addressed Aruc. "Would you mind if I kidnapped your lovely dance partner? I do believe my fiancée has been missing the company of her dear friend."

Aruc flashed a wink. "Of course. Don't take it too personal, mate. Can't help it that women love me." He clapped Fiyero on the shoulder and leaned in to whisper. "You lasted longer than I'd thought."

"For a good cause."

He gave Fiyero one last sympathetic look and then bent in a showy bow to Nessa. "Might I say, you look radiant." He slipped an arm around her shoulders. "So how's it been so far? Fiyero does quite the impersonation of a stuffy prince, doesn't he? I know he's nothing compared to me, but we must make allowances for your future husband." He shot a wink back to Elphaba and set a hand on her sister's waist. "Fancy a refreshment, my lovely? And you can tell me all about your marvelous ball." Nessa nodded, and the pair headed toward the buffet at the opposite end of the hall.

Elphaba watched their retreat like a hawk. "What did he mean, lasted longer?"

"Because..." Fiyero caught her hand and pulled her after him to the dance floor. "This is only my second dance tonight." He slipped his arms around her with a blissful smile.

"And you love to dance." She nodded in understanding. "Nessa."

"Yes."

Her annoyance with him threatened to melt. "Thank you. For caring for her."

"Of course. Though you needn't thank me. It's my responsibility." She frowned at that. He was all too right. He chucked her chin to shake away her sudden gloom. "I see you've suffered through Aruc so far. All in one piece still?"

"Why didn't you tell me your friend was such an abysmal dancer?" She laughed. "Paired with me, no less. I'm surprised we didn't topple everyone."

Fiyero led her smoothly around a slower couple. "I thought you did very well, actually. Though I'm surprised you danced so long."

"Not by choice." She followed the spin, and Fiyero deftly transferred her to his other hand. "But he's not so bad, I suppose. He makes up for lack of skill with far too much enthusiasm." Fiyero nodded in unsurprised agreement. She stepped under his arm to the opposite side, and tilted her head toward him to confide, "Don't tell him, but it was almost fun. Almost."

He spun her back to him, closer than they'd been before. "Well, then I shall have to banish that almost."

"Oh?"

"Point of pride, you see." He whirled them toward the center, weaving through the other couples as if they stood still. "And I couldn't possibly resist the opportunity to win you on the merits of dancing."

"A lost cause, I fear."

Another graceful spin that brought her nearer still. "You think me no challenge to Aruc's almost?"

"No." She felt herself growing breathless, both by the dance and his warmth so close. "You dance well, as I'm sure you're fully aware. But…"

His voice came out low as his hand slid along her shoulder blade, guiding her around a pair that had stumbled. "Yes?" Her silence drew his eyes for perhaps the second time all night. "What is it?"

"Shouldn't you be with Nessa?"

He sighed. "If you like." When she frowned, he matched it with his own. He shook her hand gently. "Hey, what's the matter?"

"Nothing. Why would there be?"

"This again? Elphaba, please tell me." He flashed a too-charming smile. "You know I'll pester you until you do."

"Do I?" She forced the hurt from her voice with near success, diverting it into an icy tone. "Here I thought I'd dropped from your attention." Oz, she hated how that sounded. So petty and insecure and…jealous. She avoided his eyes as if that could undo what she'd said, praying that somehow he'd missed it.

He studied her face. "Is that what you think?"

She didn't answer, concentrating on the dance. But Fiyero altered the steps to whirl her back to face him.

"You're wrong."

"Am I?"

He pulled her closer and tilted her chin to face him. "Very much so." She stopped in shock at the spark that leapt through her from the searing look he gave her.

He nudged her to return to the dance, and she fumbled through the steps gracelessly. If she'd been with any other partner, they would have fallen, but Fiyero brought her weight in his arms and balanced them again. He leaned down to avoid eager ears. "I should have thought…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to neglect you." He rushed the spin and pulled her back into his arms. "I had obligations, and I didn't think it too reassuring to Nessa if I'm staring at you all night."

She nodded. "So you didn't look at all." It made sense. Really, he shouldn't have to apologize. She wasn't his responsibility – Nessa was.

"You tend to distract me," he confessed. They promenaded forward and back in heavy silence. "It's not as if it's been easy."

"What? Being with Nessa?"

"Not staring at you. You look beautiful."

She rolled her eyes. "You needn't lie to make up. I'm not that cross."

"Oh?" He flashed a grin. "Then I daren't argue the truth, and risk making you so."

She dismissed his answer with a shrug. "Nessa looks beautiful. I suppose you did alright with the gowns after all."

He pulled her against him to whirl them faster around the floor. "I'm pleased you like them." Something about the sound of the word "pleased" on his tongue made her heart beat faster. Or was that the dance? She realized with an undeserved suddenness how close they'd become, and she stepped back. Fiyero met her step and transferred it into the dance so smoothly, she'd almost believed it was expected. When the song ended, she almost gasped in relief.

She retreated a step to clear her head. "Thank you for the dance."

But Fiyero didn't let go of her hand. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Nessa-"

"Is still with Aruc, happy as a clam." He laced his fingers around hers. "You didn't think I would be contented with one dance, did you?"

"Couldn't you find a partner that hasn't been worn out?"

His lips lifted in a smirk. "Tired already? Where's that famed endurance I've heard about?"

"Lost in running from your friend. Besides, that's an entirely different endurance than spinning about in these heavy dresses."

He let his face take on a pitiable expression. "You would abandon me?"

"There's plenty of women to dance with."

"So you'd send your sister's fiancé off to the wolves, then?"

Elphaba narrowed her eyes. "What wolves?"

"Clearly you've no experience with ladies of society, and I use the term very loosely." Fiyero winced, and Elphaba's subconscious sought out Three. The willowy beauty shamelessly ogled Fiyero from across the room, whispering what must be snide comments to her minions about replacing the inept green girl. "I know I exploit your weakness too much, but I am desperate. Please, Elphaba, dance with me."

"Ugh, fine. But you owe me."

He grinned and whirled her back on the dance floor so quickly it took her breath away. The fast dance kept her occupied as she struggled to keep up with her adept partner. It left little time for talking. If Aruc had been enthusiastic, at least he hadn't been so agile. Fiyero spun her through the complex patterns with abandon, in complete faith that despite the slim clearance, he'd manage even the most difficult of maneuvers. A well-deserved faith, but not one that she shared in herself. By the end, she'd half-collapsed against Fiyero to avoid falling.

"I love that dance," Fiyero murmured, his lips far too close for either of their good.

She shot him an incredulous look, and he smiled down at her tenderly. They slowed into the next song, no doubt designed to regroup, and she tried to get her breath back. Her head fell to his shoulder in a stance closer to an embrace than a dance, and he drew a long, slow breath against her temple.

Her eyes closed. This was such a bad idea, and such a bad place to have it in. Whatever friendship they had, their actions could be so easily misconstrued. This was his engagement ball. He would have everyone's eye. And with another woman close in his arms, no matter how innocent it was. Elphaba pulled away to tell him so, but the words stuck in her throat when she caught his eyes. He looked away immediately, but Elphaba couldn't help the stupidly feminine reaction she had to the warmth and fondness in his gaze. Oz, he didn't mean it that way, and she knew it. But her brain spewed out delusions in record droves.

"Fiyero?" she asked more to distract herself than anything. "Who is Three?"

He blinked, taken aback. "Sarima's sister. Why do you ask?"

"I ran into her earlier. Literally." Elphaba managed another half-inch farther from him, though fighting this pull was more exhausting than Aruc's dancing. There was something far too comfortable about his arms. "Is her name really Three?"

He tilted his head with an amused smile. "Yes."

"After?"

"After the number." She frowned, and Fiyero explained, "Sarima was the first born. Every successive girl was named by how far they were from her position."

"Why?"

His smile faltered. "To replace her, should Sarima be unable to marry."

She furrowed her brow. "I don't understand. If Sarima wasn't able to marry? What would that matter to her…oh." She blushed with understanding. "To marry you. They would fill her place as your-" She swallowed at the word, and Fiyero rushed to explain.

"To one set of Vinkans, officially, yes. Though that hasn't been done in centuries."

"So, somewhere there's a One that's been jilted by my sister."

Fiyero looked as uncomfortable as the charming prince could. "Sarima was first. Two died in childhood."

Elphaba's eyes widened. "So then, technically you were supposed to marry…Three?" He nodded with a pained expression. "Well, I don't blame you in the slightest for not. She's terrible. My sister is much better."

Fiyero laughed. "Why do I feel you would say that about anyone?"

"I would." Elphaba fell silent, and the tentative mirth dissolved. They danced without speaking for a while until Elphaba whispered, "Would you rather? Marry Three."

He tilted her chin up. "No."

"She's pretty."

"And heartless. And cruel. And manipulative. Nothing a queen should be."

Elphaba considered that. "Aruc said Sarima wasn't like her," and no sooner had the words left her mouth than she regretted them. So much for apleasant conversation. Why didn't she ask him for his most traumatic memory while at it? Probably still better than his dead fiancée at his engagement ball with a new bride.

Fiyero's shoulders drooped, but he kept his face calm. "True. She was kind, loyal and generous. Bred since birth to be ready for the responsibility."

"Responsibility? You're not _that_ terrible to marry."

He grinned. "Oh?" he teased. "I'm surprised to hear you say that." She scowled, a half-thought retort poised on the tip of her tongue when he set a finger to her lips. "Responsibility to rule, silly girl." His eyes dulled. "To carry the weight of our people with all our strength, for the duty and the honor of our noble institution. My wife will share the crown, and with it the obligations."

"It must be draining to be responsible for so many. I mean, I have Nessa, but that's easy. I love her."

"As I love my people." He cupped her cheek. "Very much the same. I think you understand better than most." She considered then how he might feel every bit the outsider she did, held apart by his title and responsibilities as she was by her odd skin color. True, he floated above others while they squelched her below, but she suspected both were just as detached. Just as alone.

"I'm sorry; I shouldn't be asking all this. Tonight should be happy. I didn't mean to ruin it."

He pulled her back against him and combed a hand through her hair. "It is, sweet girl. It is." He kissed her forehead. "Ask whatever you like. You aren't ruining anything."

"Now I don't know what to say." He chuckled, filling the silence with a smooth glide sideways. She told herself to stop talking, but it was all that kept her from gazing at the prince like a lovesick idiot. "So is Three upset, then?"

He gave her a shrewd look, and she blushed. Of course Three was upset. "She was…displeased, yes."

"Because you rejected her?"

His nod was slow.

"So she's offended and ousted from her grab for power. Maybe that's why she's such a-"

"Your highness." The silky voice had her spinning in Fiyero's arms, but he kept his grip. Three didn't bother to glance at Elphaba as she cooed, "I see you have come back to the dance floor." Elphaba made a smart comment, which Three ignored entirely. "Might I interest you in a dance?" The provocative stance and undisguised leer left little to the imagination of what else might be offered.

Fiyero squeezed her hand before Elphaba could mouth off again, and he declined with a graceful nod. "I'm afraid I have already promised Miss Elphaba this dance and the next."

"Then after."

"I shouldn't leave my fiancée too long. I do thank you for the invitation. Perhaps some other time."

Three's eyes simmered with ill intentions. "What a shame your child bride does not dance. I remember well your affection for that diversion."

"So what if Nessa doesn't dance? At least she's not a-"

"Elphaba," Fiyero chastised softly. She had to bite her tongue to stop the tide of bitterness from rushing out of her, but he was right. She hadn't the tact to tangle with this society queen without ruining Nessa's ball. He fixed Three with cold eyes. "My diversions are not of your concern. Nor is my fiancée. I would be quite displeased to hear her ill-represented."

"Of course," Three oozed false charm. "I meant no such reproach. Merely a lament for your unfortunate circumstance."

"You needn't worry for my sake." He looked down at Elphaba with a fond smile. "I have all the partner I need." He tucked an errant strand behind her ear and brushed a thumb over her cheek. "If you'll pardon us, we should like to finish this song."

"Yes, of course." Three bent in a genteel curtsy, but Fiyero spared her only a dismissive half-nod, his eyes still on Elphaba.

When she'd left, Fiyero sighed. "I'll pay for that later, no doubt." He tugged Elphaba toward him, but half as close as before. With little wonder why. She could feel the woman's eyes on her still. Elphaba tossed a sneer over his shoulder, and he warmed with a laugh. "It was worth it, though."

"I could go rip her throat out if you'd like," Elphaba glowered. "That would be worth it, too, I'm almost certain."

He let out a laugh loud enough to catch the attention of those beside them, and she blushed. "I'm sure it would." Relaxed, he spun them with a smooth gait. "But I don't believe my father would approve of us murdering a guest."

"Even if she deserved it?"

His eyes danced with amusement. "Yes, even then."


	18. After

Elphaba yawned behind her hand, a poor disguise but the best her tired mind could manage. Fiyero had kept her up half the night dancing, long after the guests had started to trickle away. How he managed the energy so late, she'd never know. If not for their occasional rendezvous with her sister, she wouldn't have made it. But Nessa had demanded they continue, and with Aruc to entertain her, Elphaba had no plausible excuse. She couldn't very well deny her precious little sister at a ball thrown in the girl's honor. No, the real blame lay with her father, who demanded they wake early to worship and study and whatever else she'd missed him saying as she tried to pry her eyes open.

"Still tired?" Aruc looked up from his book to study her sleepy face. "Bet you wished you'd stuck with me now."

"Hardly. I was more exhausted after a fraction as many with you."

"Sorry, I forgot." He licked his lips. "Too vigorous, eh?"

"Yes, yes. You're much too wild for me." He grinned despite her dry tone. Oz, she was tired. She stretched her arms as much as the aching muscles would allow. Maybe the blood flow would help. "Anyway, you could have asked again if you'd wanted."

"Nah, let Fiyero have his turn." Aruc propped an arm on the back of the couch behind her. "I'll have plenty of time to dance with you when you surrender and confess your undying love for me." She rolled her eyes. "It'll happen. Sooner or later, you'll crack."

Rather than argue, which was always useless with Aruc and a waste of precious energy, Elphaba diverted the subject. "You looked happy enough with Nessa."

"I was." He lounged back. "She's not so bad once you get past the sermonizing, and I can tune that out alright."

She scoffed. "Yeah, you're marvelous at only hearing what you'd like."

"I'm quite a depository for talents, you know. Ask Fiyero if you don't believe me."

"He'd lie for you in a second."

Aruc grinned. "I wish. That'd be quite useful." She nodded, which triggered another yawn. "Aren't we quite the pair?" She pursed her lips in confusion, and he clarified, "We take good care of our friends. Nessa got to talk, and Fiyero got to dance. Best of both worlds for them, don't you think?"

"True." She sighed sleepily and rubbed her sore eyes with the heel of her hand. "Maybe you aren't all bad."

He laughed and pulled her to rest on his shoulder. "See. I'll grow on you yet." She nodded, too tired to care what she was agreeing to.

The warm solid weight of his shoulder made a pleasant enough pillow, and by the time Fiyero ducked in, Elphaba had already started to drift off. "Am I interrupting? I can come back…" He started back out the door, an incomprehensible expression on his face.

Aruc laughed. "If only, mate. But I think you should get to know the side effects of your own handiwork."

"How do you mean?"

He shifted Elphaba off him to loll against the back of the couch. "I'm fine," she slurred dreamily, and the boys shared a look.

"Fair enough." Fiyero replaced Aruc on the couch. "I didn't keep her up that late, did I?"

Aruc's expression was answer enough. He dipped to deliver a final kiss to her forehead. "Sweet dreams, beautiful." Then he retreated to find Nessa, shutting the door with a gentle click.

"So what's my lesson today, sleepy girl?" Fiyero smiled as he brushed her hair out of her face. "What to do if my intended's tired?"

"Sure," Elphaba let her head fall heavily against Fiyero's shoulder in place of Aruc's. "So shhh."

His soft chuckle rumbled against her ear, and she scooted back with a pout, wriggling to find a better position. "Come here." He adjusted her so she fit cradled against him, her head on his chest and her legs draped across his lap. When he settled his jacket over her like a blanket, she felt sleep wrap around her in a warm cocoon, tempting. "I thought you were Elphaba, the Untiring."

"Too much dancing."

He kissed the top of her head softly. "You should have said, silly girl."

"You wouldn't have listened."

"To you? Always." He rubbed a hand over her arm, soothing. "I'm sorry. Sleep now. I'll wake you when they're here."

He stretched to grab a book, and she slumped against him. "No. I'm awake."

"Is that so?" He pulled her face to his in mock examination, and she struggled to push her eyelids open. "You don't look awake."

"I just need to-" She yawned and stretched, almost lifting herself from her drowsiness. But her stretch left her muscles protesting their continued use last night, and she winced. She worked her neck and flexed her toe to shake away the tightness.

"Sore?" She nodded, and he set his large, warm hands on her neck. When he rubbed the spot that ached the most, she groaned and softened in his hands. "Careful," he voice dark and husky. "A man could get used to that."

"Used to what?"

"You have no idea do you?" She shook her head like a ragdoll, and he returned to work on her neck. She sighed happily. "You're going to flatter my already over-inflated ego."

"You're not arrogant."

"Why, Miss Elphaba, surely you're not in your right mind if you're actually almost complimenting me."

She patted his face blindly behind her. "You're not so bad."

"I think I like you this way. I'll have to wear you out more often."

He slid his hand down her arm, and she snuggled back into his neck. Her fingers found his waist, and they curled lightly in his shirt there. "You're good pillow."

He chuckled. "Happy to oblige."

Between the warmth of the jacket and the solidness of Fiyero, sleep became irresistible, and she dozed against him, slipping in and out of consciousness. She let this continue for a few resurfacings before guilt worked through her haze. "Shouldn't I…" she mumbled, near incoherent. "Lesson."

"Sh." He kissed her hair. "Sleep, pretty girl."

"Not pretty. Green," she corrected automatically without opening her eyes.

"As if that would matter." He rocked her softly, and she buried her face in his chest to block out the annoying brightness of the lights. "Why are you so determined to believe yourself ugly?"

"True," she murmured, muffled against him.

"It's not. Not at all."

"Is. Three said."

"What?" He pulled her away, and the sudden shift jolted her out of her half-consciousness. "Three said what?"

She shrugged, a pout forming at the loss of her cozy bed. "Just - green. So?"

"And you think green means ugly?"

"Hard to miss the tone." She wiped at her eyes with a sleep-heavy hand. "And the smirks."

His face darkened, but he pulled her back against him. "Why didn't you say?" He smoothed her hair back rhythmically. "She can't treat you that way."

"Don't care." She felt his frown. "I don't like her anyway."

He huffed a reluctant laugh. "Me, either."

"But it's not as if I didn't know."

He tilted her back to look at her face with his brow furrowed. "Know what?" Her head flopped back, and he supported it gently.

"That I'm green. I'm not blind. I know I'm abnormal." The sympathy that flashed across his face annoyed her. "Not like it ruins my day."

"Elphaba-"

"Don't." She pushed herself away from him, cozy or not. "Don't you dare pity me."

"I don't. Really, I…" He caught her hand and with it, her focus. "Elphaba, you're right. You're not normal. You're so much better. If anything, I pity the people around you. They're helpless to resist you. Beautiful, magnetic, intense, fierce…I could go on forever."

"I'd really rather you didn't." She rolled her eyes. "You don't have to cheer me up, Fiyero. I'm not sad."

"Who said you were?"

"Then stop. I don't need you turning into Aruc."

He visibly flinched, and the color drained from his face to warm his cheeks. "See. Helpless against you."

"Are all Vinkans this proficient with flattery? It must make an argument here an awkward affair." She took in his hesitation, and sighed. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

She sighed and leaned back against him. "You'd know, we'd fight less if you'd just agree with me."

He laughed, clutching her to him so she wouldn't slide off. "Indeed."

"There. That's settled." She tried to snuggle back to her cocoon, but the damage was done. She pouted. "Now I'm awake."

He peered down at her, disbelieving.

"Really."

She moved to leave her cozy bed, but he clutched her waist. "For now. I'd rather not have to haul you back."

"You didn't have to in the first place."

He leaned down, palms flat against her, burning in place. "Are you complaining?"

"Um…I suppose not."

He grinned. His arm circled her waist a slight measure more. The awareness of their proximity burned through her brain like a wildfire, shattering the easy feeling that had grown between them. She shifted, anxious, and he responded by tightening his hold.

"I really should," he breathed, and her own caught in her throat. He stared at her lips as if he'd lost concentration.

She gulped. "Should what?"

He blinked. "Um, take you dancing more often." She relaxed, just a hair. But it was enough for him to slide his hand up her arm to grip her chin. The motion of his lean forward unleashed a warmth that flooded through her like a tidal wave. She licked her lips subconsciously, and he groaned. "Tempt a man to death," he muttered so quietly that she wasn't certain if she was meant to hear it.

His eyes lingered on her lips, caressing, and her heart accelerated exponentially. If he could melt her this much with a look, what would happen if he did touch her? She didn't think she could take the answer. She tore her eyes from his in a desperate attempt to remember how to breathe, and they fell on the back hem of Nessa's dress disappearing from view. "Nessa."

"I know," he sighed. "I'm sorry."

"No." She shoved away from him and scrambled to her feet. "They're back." She leapt to her feet guiltily, gripped his hand, and all but threw herself toward the stairs.

Her sore muscles refused to cooperate, and she pulled them in an uncontrolled slide over the rug into the desk. "Slow down," Fiyero grunted as they careened into the door and bounced off the opposite wall. They stomped down the stairs, straightening clothes and smoothing hair in a frantic attempt to seem composed.

Their hasty descent had been needless, and they landed alone in the hallway, panting. If anything, it made the situation seem more suspicious.

"Well, that was clever," Fiyero huffed. "Shall we whistle our innocence also?"

She rolled her eyes with a clever retort, but before she could deliver it, the others turned the corner, and they spun to face the pair with faces guilty as sin.

"Nessa! Aruc!" Elphaba forced a false cheer to her voice, and Aruc studied her suspiciously.

"I see you got her awake," he eyed Fiyero. "Downright spry."

Fiyero palmed the back of his neck in a vain attempt to hide an illogical blush. "Quite independently."

"You seem more tired than ever. What, is it catching?"

He gave a weary smile, and Aruc stepped away from them both in mock fear. "Perhaps we could all do with some rest," Nessa suggested. "I am somewhat drained as well."

Aruc clapped his hand to Fiyero's shoulder. "You, too. You look terrible, mate."

"Very well," Fiyero ran a hand over his face. "Shall I collect you two back for dinner?" Elphaba started to protest but he held up his hand. "Not optional for you, Miss I'll-Dance-All-Night-And-Fall-Asleep-In-My-Breakfast. The question was for Miss Nessarose."

Aruc snorted, and shrugged at her glare. "He has a point. Even you feel fine now, you're going to crash again. You'll do less harm as a stationary narcoleptic."

"Miss Nessarose?"

Her sister smiled. "That would be lovely. Thank you."

Aruc took Elphaba's arm to escort the girls to their room. "You sleep," he commanded Fiyero with a point toward the opposite wing. Without a fight, Fiyero retreated, a contemplative look replacing the weary one.

"And you, Master Aruc?" Nessa asked. "What will you do? You don't seem tired."

"Don't worry about me, little one. I'm perfectly capable of entertaining myself for a bit." He patted her back lightly and squeezed Elphaba's hand. "Here we are, girls. Safe and sound."

"Thank you."

"Sweet dreams, my lovelies." He bent in a sweeping bow and winked before spinning on his heel in exit.

"Such a charming man," Nessa smiled fondly as Elphaba helped her to her room. "You really shouldn't spurn his interest so, Fabala."

"In all fairness, you're not the one he spends half his time riddling with shallow compliments." She replaced Nessa's dress with a loose dressing gown and helped her sister sit. "He doesn't even know me."

"Doesn't he?" Nessa peered over her shoulder at Elphaba unbinding her hair. "What of all those mornings you spend together in the library?"

She blushed at the thought, but not of Aruc. "You spend as much time with him as I do."

"Exactly. And I feel I know him well enough to speak for him."

Elphaba sighed and arranged the pillows. "Aruc is a good enough friend. But nothing more."

"What's wrong with a lifetime of friendship? Isn't a husband just a partner whose friendship has gone a bit farther?"

She shot her younger sister a look. "Not quite, Nessa."

Nessa blinked up at her sister through her eyelashes with a pathetic expression. "I just wish you could find someone as I have."

Elphaba tucked her in with a kiss to the forehead. "I don't need a man. I have a sweet little sister to love."

"That's not the same at all."

"I know." She brushed the hair off Nessa's face. "But it's enough for me."

"And when I marry Fiyero? Will it be enough then?"

Elphaba flinched. She'd rather eat hot coals than picture that day, but it sprang unbidden to mind. And what could she say? That the day of her sister's greatest happiness would certainly devastate her? And not just because she'd lost Nessa, but because she couldn't stand to picture Fiyero standing beside anyone but herself.

Guilt overwhelmed her and manifested in a sudden migraine. She pressed a hand to her head, weary, and bid her sister sweet dreams with a final kiss. As she slid into her own dreams, she found the guilt an unsuccessful deterrent to the memory of Fiyero's hands.

Elphaba hung her head. What was the matter with her? Nessa's words played over and over in her brain, short-circuiting it with memories of her disloyalty. No matter how wonderful Fiyero was, how his smile made her feel, how he understood her like no one else, whatever magnetic attraction he held her with - none of it changed the fact that he was marrying her sister, and that was that.

Her sister trusted her. Her sister depended on her. Elphaba would _not_ fall in love with her sister's fiancé.

Except she feared she already had.

* * *

She had to avoid him. That was the only solution. Fiyero wouldn't be pushed away, but perhaps he could be outrun. It had worked so far. She'd claimed illness to avoid breakfast this morning, and now she paced her room, repeating her plan endlessly lest her will break and send her off in search of him.

The morning stretched on, but at least she wasn't troubled in forced conversation. Her mind couldn't dwell on anything else. It circled the issue over and again such that she'd barely managed to focus on her façade enough to send away her father. Her father - who fled at the first opportunity to get away from her.

She paced, repeating her new mantra again and again: "Nessa's husband. Nessa's husband. Nessa's husband." The knock startled her, and she could only hope whoever it was hadn't heard her muttering. She opened the door with a bothered, "What is it?"

Fiyero studied her shocked expression from where he lounged across the doorway. His eyes ran down her, and without invitation he stepped inside. "Feeling better?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I was worried. Nessa said you were sick."

She blushed, hopefully enough to look feverish. "I am. You shouldn't be here. You might get sick also."

He arched an eyebrow. "You don't look sick."

"Are you a doctor?" She marched away from him to plop heavily on the couch and draw a cover over her. "I'm ill, and cranky, and wish to be left alone."

"Cranky I believe." But his smile absorbed the insult. "I brought you breakfast."

"I'm not hungry."

"Right," he nodded, still suspicious. "Sick. Still, you should eat. You already slept through dinner last night."

"I said I'm not hungry," she barked, but her stomach growled at the smell of food, betraying her. "Shouldn't you be going, though? Your meeting-"

"Can wait. I know my part anyway."

"You should be with Nessa. She'll want you there."

"No, no." He adopted a syrupy voice as he set the tray down on a table and scooted closer. "You're sick. She understands."

"I'm fine." His smirk was smug. "I mean, I can take care of myself. I don't need you."

"But do you want me?"

"No." She studied the tray, her stomach complaining at its part in her façade. "If I eat, will you leave?"

He leaned closer, now almost against her shoulder. "Oh, you needn't act well on my account. If you're not hungry…"

She glared at him. "What do you want?"

"To take care of you." He brushed a hand over her forehead, his sarcasm evaporating into genuine affection. "Is that so bad?"

"Yes. I don't need you to take care of me. Go away."

"Fine." He leaned back against the sofa, arms folded behind his head. "I won't do anything. I'll just sit here."

"What is the matter with you?" She rubbed her eyes in frustration. "Go away. Get out. Leave me alone."

"Why?"

"I don't want you here."

His voice softened. "Why?"

"You…ugh. Why do you always have to push?" She abandoned the afghan and delicious-smelling food (much to her empty stomach's disagreement) for the safety of her room.

"Me?" Fiyero caught her arm before she could make it halfway. "I push because you're always running. What are you running from?"

"You." She wrenched away from him and stormed through the door, but he didn't stop. She spun back and pushed a hand into his chest. "What are you doing? This is my bedroom! You can't be in here."

"Why?"

"It's…improper," she sputtered.

"Well, I'm not going to leave so you can keep hiding from me. If you don't want me in here, you'll have to go out there like a normal person."

"Oh, well, I'm not a normal person, am I?" she spit out. She turned her back on him and tried not to think how abnormal she really was.

"That's not what I meant," his voice quivered on the edge of control, hard and angry, "and you know it."

"I don't care. Get out."

"Elphaba…"

"Out!" She shoved his arm, but he caught her against him before she could work out how. "Let me go!"

"Stop running away."

"Stop following me."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Oz, woman, you drive me crazy sometimes." He looked up, eyes brimming with frustration. "Do we have to fight about everything?"

"Yes," she spat.

"Can't you ever just tell me what's wrong?"

"You're in my room, and I don't want to talk to you. That's what's wrong. Now get out."

"Why?"

"I just said."

"Not your excuses," Fiyero barked, his muscles tight with tension. "Why do you insist on pushing me away from you? Why do you have to run anytime I get close to you? This is the longest game of tag in existence."

"Then give up."

He caught her chin and tilted her face to his. "Not. Likely."

"Why not?" Her anger was leaking into something closer to desperation, and she knew he could hear it in her voice. "Why can't you just let me alone?"

"Why can't you talk to me?"

"Why is it so important to you? Why do you have to keep pushing and prodding and chasing me? Why do you insist on making me want things I shouldn't?" She groped for the words as if she could swallow them back, but they'd already gone, their impact all too clear on his face.

"Why do I…?" He studied her face. "I make you want things you shouldn't?"

"No!" But her avoidance only made it clear she was lying. "That's ridiculous."

Fiyero inched her face closer to his. "Because I want things, too," he breathed, "things I really, _really_ shouldn't."

"Then don't," her voice soft as a prayer. "Don't want them."

"You first," he whispered, his lips brushing feather-light against the corner of her own.

"I don't." She pulled back, screaming her mantra in her mind as if that could save her. "I can't."

"I know."

"I'm sorry." And she was. In so many ways.

"Me, too." He floated his lips over her jaw, and she shivered against him. "So very, very sorry."

Her eyes fluttered closed, and her mantra dissolved into his warm breath on her neck. "Fiyero?"

"Mmm."

She clutched a handful of his shirt to hold to what was left of her sanity. "You shouldn't be here."

"Mmm." He nodded, which drew his nose slowly along her ear. The sensitive skin sang with desire, tingling and warm.

"You should go." But her hand tugged his shirt nearer, and her back arched toward him. "You should…" She trailed off, too intoxicated by the smell of him so strong, so close, by the feel of his palms where they gripped her waist and back, by the attraction that dangled so tangibly between them.

He drew a ragged breath. "Oh, to hell with it. If I'm to be damned-" He caught her chin and closed the last few inches to her lips.

The thrill of the kiss shocked her, shooting down her spine and electrifying each drop of her blood. Her heart pounded. Adrenaline flooded her. Heat radiated from the place his fingers touched, and her brain froze, not that it had been much use anyway. She clung to him so hard, she wouldn't be surprised if his shirt tore. Her other hand found his scalp to tangle in the hair there, and he groaned when she pulled him closer. For a long moment, she was lost in an ocean of lust, drowning and being drowned, and loving every sinful second.

"Stop." She shoved him away, breathless, as her brain clumsily sputtered to life. "Nessa. No. Oh, Oz, what have I done?"

"Hey," he caught her arm before she could flee again. "Don't. Please. Damn it, don't run from me."

She shivered. "I have to." She yanked her arm, but he hooked a secure arm around her waist. "No, I have to go. We have to stay away from each other." She shoved his chest hard enough to push him an arm's width away. "We have to-"

"No, no. Don't." He pulled her back. "We can talk. Just talk."

"We can't." The temptation to give in was overwhelming, and she found her fingers curled in his shirt again. She forced them to let go. "We won't." He cupped her cheek, and his pained eyes drew the confession from her lips. "Because I don't want to."

"I know. I know exactly." He studied her lips as he nodded slowly, understanding. She took advantageous of his distraction to pull free, and she flattened herself against the wall. Her hand wrapped around the doorframe to keep her there, to keep her from thinking what else they could be doing, to keep her ready to run. "Elphaba. It's okay." He took a cautious step toward her, hands raised. "It'll be alright."

"You're wrong." She shook her head, frustrated in that truth. "This can never happen."

He slid a step closer, blocking the door. His fingers found hers and unwrapped them from the doorframe. "Sh, it's alright. Trust me." He pulled her toward him, slowly but steady despite her resistance until he could envelop her in his arms.

"But…" her eyes wide, she protested limply. "We…"

He brought her head to his shoulder and buried his face in her hair. "There. Safe as houses."

"Not safe," she sighed, her face automatically searching the hollow of his neck where his pulse pounded a hypnotic seduction. "We're not safe together. We're the opposite of safe. We're like gunpowder and a match."

She felt his smile against her temple. They stood that way for a long moment, frustrated and ashamed and clinging. And still desperately longing to continue what they should never have started. "Why couldn't it have been you they sent me?" he sighed and pressed a soft kiss to her hair. "I should be marrying you."

"But they didn't," she whispered. "You're not."

"It should have been you," he insisted stubbornly, and repeated it just for good measure. For once, she found herself unable to argue with him.


	19. Talk

AN: I'm overwhelmed at the support from the last chapter. Thank you all so much for your kind words and for taking the time to read and review. I greatly appreciate it, more than I can say.

For those of you that have read my summer challenge piece, Chasing Elphie, TheSquintiestSquint is reviving her interpretation, Same Song, New Verse. She done some wonderful work with this piece, and I recommend reading it if you enjoy some high quality angst.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy the next chapter.

* * *

"What have I done?" Elphaba whispered to herself in time with her pacing. "Oh, Oz."

Even as the memory tore at her conscience, it brought a wanton blush to her cheeks. That kiss… No. That should never have happened. At least she'd sent him away, not that it appeased her guilt any. Her sweet, innocent little sister trusted her, and how had she repaid her? She had never put much stock in her father's rants of sin and morality, but at this moment, she felt truly and utterly wicked. Kumbricia personified.

A gentle tap came at the door, interrupting her self-berating. She groaned and considered playing dead. Answering it would only mean more trouble, and she had more than enough already.

Nessa's soft voice filtered through the door, "I thought you said she was feeling better?"

"She was," Fiyero confirmed, and just the sound of his voice sent her stomach fluttering. Nessa's anxious reply was too muffled to understand, so Elphaba pressed her ear to the wood.

Aruc murmured, "Yes, we'd better let her sleep. If she's this ill…"

"Fine. I'll stay with her and meet you both at dinner."

"But hadn't I better stay? She's my sister."

"You needn't worry, Miss Nessarose." Elphaba could picture his face, dimples accenting a gentle smile. "I've had my share of caring for the sick. She's in good hands."

"Yes," Aruc 's voice came gently, "Sarima's illness was not quick." Elphaba couldn't help a wince. A tragic image formed of Fiyero brushing out the hair of his invalid fiancée, all too aware that each day might be the last. How did he manage to have any sort of hope left after that? Let alone his obnoxious optimism he inflicted on her constantly.

Nessa must have agreed because Fiyero called through the door with a light knock. "Elphaba, I'm coming in."

She scrambled to her feet and yanked the door open. "No, no. I'm alright." Or rather, she'd prefer not to be left alone, unsupervised, with her greatest temptation right there in her bedroom.

"Why didn't you open the door?"

"Um," Elphaba stalled at Nessa very understandable question. "I had to get dressed."

She rolled her eyes at the surprised leers both boys shot her, but before she could bite off a spiteful remark, Nessa offered, "If you're still feeling ill, Fiyero said he'd-"

"I'm fine," she rushed out. "I've been staring at the same ceiling for hours now. A change in scenery would do me good."

"Well then, shall we sit in the salon? It should be cool enough there not to bother Miss Elphaba's weakened constitution."

She gave Aruc a playful glare. "Careful with your choice of 'weak.'"

He laughed. "Of course, milady. Do forgive."

They trailed with aching slowness to the salon amidst a sea of concerned assessments. Her reassuring answers had turned to snapped grumbles and aggrieved sighs. Finally there, she had to endure Aruc's efforts to help her sit. "Is this alright? Should you lie down instead?"

"I'm fine."

"Perhaps you'd better," Nessa supplied. "You don't want to tire before dinner."

Aruc patted his lap, and Fiyero rolled his eyes in time with hers. He sat on her other side. "Just lean on me, and that should work as well as lying down."

She blushed so deeply that Aruc felt her forehead. "Are you sure you are up to this? Perhaps we should take you back."

"No!" She forced her voice to calm. "No, I'm fine." She glanced from Aruc's lap to Fiyero's arms, uncertain which would be the least disastrous.

Instead she curled up against the back of the couch. "Honestly." Fiyero hauled her back to lie cradled against his chest. "You're the most stubborn woman I've ever met."

"I prefer to think of it as strong-willed and full of conviction."

"Full of something." He set his head lightly atop hers, and she let her eyes close. Even an awareness of their witnesses couldn't stop the rush of warmth at the feel of him. She let herself indulge in a guilty moment of pleasure. Would this be life with him? She felt a strong stab of envy for her little sister at that thought. The conversation drifted around her as her sense warred with her reluctant hope. She should pull away, make good use of that stubbornness, but there they stayed, held together by more than his arms, as their secret burned in the forefront of her brain. His fingers traced minute circles easily dismissed as twitches lightly across her arms.

She shivered, and Aruc caught her hand. "I think she's getting worse."

"Perhaps she could use a shawl," Fiyero offered with false innocence, and her eyes popped open to glare at him. He shrugged. "She seems a little cold."

"I'm fine," she said, but everyone ignored her as if she hadn't spoke.

"Shall we go and fetch her one?" Aruc stood. "Do you mind, Nessa? I couldn't begin to guess where she might keep it, and I value my life too much to go rummaging about in a woman's dresser drawers."

Nessa giggled. "Particularly with my sister's disposition."

"I said I'm fine."

Fiyero rubbed Elphaba's arm softly. "We'll stay here. Best not to tire her."

"I'm not cold," she pushed away from Fiyero. "And I'm not tired. And I'm certainly not an invalid to be bothered about and ignored."

"How can you be both?"

She huffed. "Oh, so now I'm audible?"

"We'll be right back, Fabala. You needn't be so cross. We're only trying to help."

"I don't need help."

Fiyero shook his head. "And if you did, what would you say?"

She glared at him. He knew full well that she was fine. Why did he have to torment her? Fiyero lifted an eyebrow in challenge. If she confessed her excuse, she'd have to give her reason. So she settled for a silent scathing in the hopes that her eyes really could produce hot oil. His argument had, of course, completely convinced Nessa, and the pair traipsed off in search of her unnecessary shawl. Oz. She sincerely hoped Nessa chose one of her own instead of letting Aruc rifle through Elphaba's underwear. "Happy now? I can't smile at him, but you can send him frolicking through my bedroom?"

Fiyero shrugged. "How else was I supposed to get you alone? You're avoiding me."

"And?"

He leaned down to cup her cheek. "Don't."

"Stop." She pulled back with a firm hand on his firm chest. "You know we shouldn't be alone together."

"We need to talk about this, Elphaba."

"What's there to talk about?" He shot her a look, and she sighed. "You're marrying my sister, and I'm going to pretend today never happened."

"That's a terrible idea."

"Perhaps."

His thumb ghosted over her lips. "And if I don't marry your sister?"

"You have to." She pulled away. "You're honor-bound."

He bit back a sharp laugh. "As if my pride were equal to you in my motives. I would happily-" The steps down the hall interrupted Fiyero before he could press the issue. "Tomorrow, come to the library. We need to talk about this."

"Or?" He nodded toward the others rounding the corner. She sighed. He could do this for eternity, pester the living daylights out of her. Why did he have to be so surprisingly clever? "Ugh. Fine. But you're not going to like it."

Aruc reached them first with a grand bow. "Your shawl, milady."

"That I didn't want." She bit off a sarcastic, "Thanks."

"Are you certain-"

"What?" She leaned forward with a snarling, "Call me weak again, and you'll really regret it."

He slunk back, surprised at her aggression. "My apologies. I didn't mean to offend you." His contrition pricked her conscience, and she caught his hand. It wasn't his fault. Not really. Aruc ducked his head uncertainly. "I only wish to care for you as you deserve."

"Deserve?" She drew her lips into a reticent smile. "With my temper, I should be left alone, without potential victims."

"Hardly." Aruc pressed her fingers to his lips in a gentlemanly kiss. "You should be worshipped as the angel you are."

"Time for dinner," Fiyero announced, his voice tighter than it had been. Hers eyes strayed to his, and she was surprised at the intensity with which he stared at her fingers wrapped with Aruc's.

She sighed. "Let's go, then. We've delayed enough with this silly fool's mission."

Fiyero stood and draped her shawl effortlessly around her, separating her hand from Aruc without the slightest bit of attention toward it. "Mustn't catch cold." She shot him a look, but he faked wide-eyed innocence. "Shall we?"

She walked off before either could be annoyed that she hadn't chosen their arm to lean on. Oz, men. Her life had been much simpler with the only suitors she knew being fictitious.

What would dinner be like with Fiyero's charm unleashed on her full force? He'd distracted her before with a warm hand on her knee, or a whispered word of collusion. What would he manage now, despite their many witnesses? He always managed to create the most delicate privacy in the most public of places. All too soon, they reached the dining hall, and she darted to Aruc's opposite side. She preferred to think of it as tactical avoidance, but she knew it was a desperate move to hide. Her eyes automatically sought out Fiyero, with his own gaze trained right back at her. Her stomach flipped. He was not happy.

The adults joined them, and dinner happened around her. But her reality was limited to the intensity of his eyes. Free to watch her across the table, he made good use of his new liberty. He stared at her, longing like a caress. Looking away offered no relief, either, as she felt his scrutiny like a physical touch, tracing over her features.

Aruc, meanwhile, was thrilled that she sat beside him. He flirted and teased, but without use as she barely acknowledged him. The others spoke around them, words bouncing off her immune ears. All that existed was Fiyero. His gaze found her lips, and he smiled slowly, languidly, proudly. She felt his kiss again like a phantom, and she blushed.

His grin widened, and against her will, her own answered. Then she shook her head and stared at her fingers. But she could feel the burn of his eyes on her still.

"Pass the talic." She didn't dare look up to see if that was meant for her. Aruc shook her shoulder. "Elphaba, you alright?"

She nodded, distracted, and shoved the talic at him. Fiyero hadn't moved an inch. Her breath caught in her throat.

He let his gaze drop deliberately to her lips, and she scowled. "Fiyero!" Aruc's call cut through their silent conversation enough for both to look up. "What is the matter with you two? Nessa asked you for a napkin at least six times."

Fiyero coughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "My apologies."

Aruc set a companionable hand on Nessa's shoulder. "Fighting again, I guess. You think they'll ever get along?"

"I hope so."

Elphaba couldn't help a wry thought that Nessa might want to be careful what she wished for.

* * *

Elphaba fidgeted as Aruc stared idly out the window. Neither even bothered pretending to read anymore, and he'd given up on conversation when the third full minute went by without more than a monosyllabic response from her.

He coughed, and she glanced at him. "Sorry."

She nodded dismissively.

He studied her profile and sighed. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," she frowned. "Why?"

"You're never this quiet unless something is amiss."

She shrugged.

"It makes me nervous."

"Sorry."

"Feeling sick again?"

"No."

"Is anything else bothering you?"

Elphaba's laugh was dry. Understatement of the year. Aruc took her hand, pleased that she'd finally smiled, if tensely. But that smile shriveled when Fiyero peeked in.

"Ready?"

She sighed, and Aruc nodded. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and a kiss to the forehead. "Whatever it is, don't worry. You'll make it work out for the best; I'm certain of that."

She softened and squeezed his hand back in response. Aruc could manage to be an almost decent person. And unattached. Her life would be so much easier if he were the one haunting her dreams instead of his very, very, _very_ attached friend. Aruc walked out, leaving them alone, and she had to fight the urge to call him back. She stared at the window, avoiding Fiyero.

"So…"

She bit her lip. He matched her agitation as he sat on the couch beside her. "Your lesson."

He shook his head. "Our talk."

"Nothing else to talk about."

"Oh, really?" He caught her chin, a fierce look in his eye. "Then perhaps talk is the wrong word." He leaned forward, and she shoved him back.

"Stop it."

"How else am I to get you to talk about it? We can't just ignore what happened."

"Of course we can. It was stupid and foolish and a mistake. It will never happen again."

"No. It won't." But he didn't release her. Her heart pounded at the closeness of his lips. Without meaning to, she leaned toward him.

"A mistake," she breathed to remind herself.

His voice came out husky, "Yes."

"We can't."

His fingers flared to cover her cheek. "Definitely not."

"Whatever we feel…" He swallowed a groan at the word. "I mean want…"

"Not better."

The safety rails were quickly falling away from this conversation. It took every ounce of her will power not to close the breath between them. "This is a bad idea."

"Mm, bad idea." His nose brushed against hers, and her spine melted into a rush of warmth. "Very, very bad."

That dark part of herself shot a thrill through her at the idea of something so wicked. Could she really let this happen? "I…" His lips trailed lightly on the corner of her mouth, a pendulum swinging away and back wider each time. She had maybe a few breaths to stop him, or…

He pulled back a hair. "Oz, must you be so intoxicating? I was doomed the moment I met you." He moved his lips safely to her forehead to press a lingering kiss there, and Elphaba drew a much-needed breath. "I never stood a chance."

"You? I'm the one you coerced into your friendship and used your evil charm on."

"Evil?" He laughed. "If I were evil, we wouldn't be talking right now."

"Evil in its own way," she muttered under her breath, but he heard. His smile darkened.

"An evil I'd willing embrace, if you'd give me leave."

"You tease too well," she sighed. "I should have never spoken a word to you."

His lips came back to brush hers lightly. "Perhaps not." He pressed a soft, chaste kiss to her lips. "Words are highly overrated."

"Damn your charm."

"Then don't be irresistible."

"Me?" She scoffed. "I'm not the one seducing."

His fingers tightened at the word. "No?" She shook her head. "You've been seducing me since we met. Your beautiful face, your fiery wit. So fierce but so gentle, hard but soft." His fingers traced her neck to confirm his statement, and she drew a heavy breath at the sensation. "A walking contradiction that is impossible to ignore and more so to resist. Oz, and then you sing like the very angels themselves."

"That again."

"How could I not fall in love with you? I tried, I did. You think I wanted to have these feelings for my future sister-in-law? And with Aruc's interest, too?"

She shifted. She hadn't considered that he might be even more conflicted, with best friend and fiancée both to betray. She felt a rush of sympathy, which was not particularly helpful at keeping her away from him. She pushed him back. "Then we should talk about something else, or we'll end up doing something we regret."

"What I regret is this ridiculous engagement."

"Don't." Her eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare say anything about my sister."

"I just don't see the issue. She's not-"

"She's your fiancée, and that's that. All the should-have and wishes aren't going to change it."

"But why can't we change it? It isn't set in stone."

She crossed her arms, a fierce stubbornness apparent in her features. "I am _not_ stealing my sister's fiancé, and that's final." She glared at him until he slumped with a defeated sigh. "We'll just have to ignore whatever attraction," she stumbled at the word, but soldiered on, "we might find toward each other."

He lifted an eyebrow.

She swallowed hard, and forced out, "Ready for your lesson?"

"Eagerly," his smooth voice rich and dark like fine chocolate. "What shall you teach me?"

"I can't think of what else you need to learn, besides…" She blushed fiercely. "You know…"

"What?"

"Dressing," she stumbled through it. "Or bathing." His eyes widened. "Tucking into bed." Her cheeks felt fevered now. "Things we can't…"

"Right," he said, but he leaned forward again. "Far too improper."

"Yes."

"Although…" He shrugged carefully. "It is for education."

"Fiyero!"

He flashed a cheeky grin. "Worth a try at least."

"As if you'd follow through. You're all tease and bluster, but behind it, you're a gentleman, and you know it."

His eyes darkened, "Only barely. You'd test the willpower of a saint." He ran his lips in a burning line across her cheek to whisper in her ear, "And I am hardly feeling saintly."

Elphaba slipped beneath his arm to some much needed space. "This is precisely why I was avoiding you." Fiyero stood, eyes narrowed, and stalked toward her, all grace and threat and stealth and power carefully harnessed in his years of hunting. She scrambled behind the cluttered desk. "Fiyero," she warned, but he smiled.

"Only one word I find more favorable from those lips."

She crossed her arms. "Well it isn't one you're going to hear."

"Oh?" That one word had her heart racing far more than the most eloquent soliloquy of seduction either written or spoken in the history of humanity. He grasped her wrist and tugged her to him. "In due time, Miss Elphaba. In due time."

He pressed a searing kiss to her lips that drew a soft sigh from her unwilling lips. She stayed too long not to be complicit, but finally she rallied herself enough to pull away. "We mustn't," she breathed, and her distress managed to hold him at bay. He glanced at the window, and she queried an anxious, "Are they here?" She retreated at his nod as far as the door before he caught her hand.

"Miss Elphaba?"

"What?" She frowned at his formality, suspicious.

He held her eyes with a devilish grin and pressed a lingering kiss to her fingers. "I look forward to our next lesson."


	20. Embers

Elphaba pulled on her long, heavy gloves and started the water running. Thanks to her feigned illness and the over-attentiveness of both boys, she felt drained, and her movements were wearied, lethargic. Nessa tilted her head. "I'd ask if you're feeling alright, but I think Aruc asked enough for a lifetime already."

"That he did." Elphaba shook her head with a heavy frown. "Though it's none of his concern."

"He's worried about you."

She helped lower her sister into the water and tenderly wiped a gloved finger over her sister's cheek. "You're the only one in this room worth worrying over."

"Are you still worried for me, then?" Nessa forehead wrinkled. "I thought you got along with Fiyero quite well now. Except for whatever row has you two arguing at the moment."

"What makes you think we're arguing?"

"He stares at you constantly, and you refuse to acknowledge his existence. It's quite a change from before."

Elphaba fought the sinking feeling in her stomach. "He's not worth arguing with. Far too stubborn."

Nessa laughed delicately.

"What?"

"That from the most stubborn person I've ever met? I'd hardly think he could compete in that respect."

Elphaba frowned and converted her energy into scrubbing the girl's back. "Sorry. I'll refrain from criticizing your fiancé." But the last two words stuck in her throat. If Nessa noticed, she made no mention of it.

"You should come on our walks, instead." Nessa twisted around to face her, wide-eyed and hopeful. "I know you love reading, but if Fiyero is so bothersome to you... Aruc certainly wouldn't mind."

"I'm sure he wouldn't. But I shouldn't encourage him." Elphaba lathered the shampoo into her sister's hair, dismissing the conversation, but to no avail.

"You're still uninterested?"

"Not in the slightest."

"He's not so bad."

"When he isn't chasing, which is almost never." Elphaba rinsed her hair, fighting the urge to confess the real reason why she didn't want Aruc. Perhaps Nessa would know how to fix everything. She might not have any desire in marrying Fiyero after all. "Nessa?"

"Hmm."

"Do you think…are you in love with Fiyero?"

A voice begged for her sister to say no. Nessa considered for a long moment and nodded. "Mostly."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, much of love is need, and I can see myself needing Fiyero. He's a good man that will make a good husband and take care of me, and I am very grateful to him. I admire many of his characteristics, and he is undeniably attractive. And don't argue with that. No man is ever attractive enough for you."

Elphaba's cheeks flamed, and her deceit felt like a physical weight on her shoulders. Thankfully she was behind Nessa, out of sight, and so the girl continued unaware of her sister's discomfort.

"No, you needn't worry about me, Fabala. I'm quite happy with my match. Love is a product of our choices. Like a fire grown from a single spark that, through our labors, grows and burns brighter each day. I believe I have the embers of love for Fiyero that will build over time." The guilt deepened that Nessa would try to make Elphaba feel better about marrying someone she doesn't love. The same man that regrettably Elphaba did.

She helped her sister out of the water and drained it, slowed by her deepening weariness. Nessa filled the silence, "Why not accept Aruc, and build love rather than searching for it?"

She flinched. "Why are you so allied with Aruc against me?"

"It's for you, not against. Really. He genuinely cares for you, and he would be a good husband."

"Perhaps." She dried the girl and brushed the wet hair back. "But I would make a lousy wife."

"Not so." Nessa shook her head adamantly. "You might fool others with your brusque manner, but I know you better. I'm your sister."

"Then you should know I have no interest in marriage."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"And why is that so ridiculous?"

Nessa pursed her lips in her sternest manner. "Fabala, you must be married. Or devote yourself to the mauntery, which I fear is even more preposterous for you." Elphaba snorted. "I had myself considered such a devotion until Father arranged this union. I see now his wisdom. It is not wrong to hope for love."

If only that were true.

"Who says I have to choose marriage or mauntery?" Elphaba sighed. "Is spinsterhood illegal now?"

Nessa cast a disparaging look. "Oh, be practical. You'd rather live alone for the rest of your life?"

With chin thrust forward, Elphaba gave a mulish, "I would." Though a nagging thought begged to differ that Fiyero might persuade her otherwise.

"You would not. You like men as much as any moral woman."

"Moral, am I?" Elphaba cackled as she helped her sister to bed and tucked her in. "Since when is your wicked sister considered moral?"

"You're only wicked in your disrespect. If you would only come to worship the Unnamed God-"

"Goodnight, Nessa," she interrupted with a huff. "I have no interest in your suitor or your religion."

"One day you might. I only pray it is not too late."

"Perhaps, my pretty. Pray for me if it eases your mind. I, meanwhile, will devote myself to more worthwhile occupations."

* * *

As much as she'd deny it, their conversation stayed with Elphaba, bothering her already tumultuous thoughts. Marriage, Fiyero, and Nessa tangled in various combinations, none pleasing to her, and she rubbed at her temples to drive the worries away. Could she pull Nessa away from the man her sister fancied she loved? All for what. She couldn't offer Fiyero a wife in return. Even the idea that she would consider marriage brought a scowl to her face. What was the matter with her?

"You seem distracted." She nodded at Aruc's observation, setting down the book she hadn't been reading. "By my devilish good looks?"

She patted Aruc's cheek with a sweet smile. "Not even remotely."

"Ouch."

"No, something Nessa said." She turned to focus on him with narrowed eyes. "And what in Oz have you been telling her on your walks? She's pestering me without end to marry you."

He slid closer. "I should buy that girl flowers."

"It doesn't help."

"Sure, it doesn't." He grinned cockily. "But it can't hurt."

"I would say it does, if your cause weren't so hopeless already. Hard to make utterly impossible any worse."

"Or so you say."

"You Vinkans and your damned stubborn hopefulness."

He lounged back. "So Fiyero's my ally as well, I'd wager." Elphaba blushed. If only Aruc knew how wrong he was. "If everyone's advising you to, wouldn't the wisest options be to investigate their opinions?" Her blush deepened as she imagined investigating Fiyero's opinion, and Aruc misinterpreted it as for his benefit. "One kiss. I promise you won't regret it."

She shot him a withering glare. "Listen carefully, Master Aruc. I am not now, nor will I ever, be willing to kiss you."

He shrugged. "If you say so."

"I do."

"Fine."

"It's true."

"Sure, sure."

She fought a scream of frustration. "You are the most frustrating man on the face of the planet."

"So I've been replaced then." Her head jerked up to see Fiyero grinning in the doorway.

"Oh, thank Oz. Please deliver me from this fool before I'm forced to kill him."

Amused, Fiyero didn't even tear his eyes from hers to glance at his friend while he commanded, "Aruc, out."

Aruc reluctantly got to his feet. "Sooner or later, Miss Elphaba. You'll cave."

"Not likely," she sniped back. "Go on now, shoo."

He caught her waved hand and pressed a long, seductive kiss to her palm. "Miss me?"

"Aruc." Fiyero didn't move, but the increased authority in his voice seemed to pull the other man back as he repeated, "Out. Now."

Finally alone, Fiyero swayed from his place at the door with a predatory swagger. She should have blushed from the aggressive lust in his eyes, but she found herself too put out after Aruc. "What is the matter with you men?"

"As if you're innocent. I'd wager you enjoy driving us insane."

"You're acting strangely, even for you."

"Because…" He brought her arms around his neck, and she found herself too captivated in the darkness in his eyes to resist. "I have decided…" His own hands smoothed their way to her waist. "That you are worth it."

"Worth what?"

He nuzzled her hairline, grinning at the breathlessness in her voice. "Anything. Everything." Then he moved toward her mouth, and she thought enough to pull away.

"So what? Nessa…" She waved her hand. "Aruc…all of it?"

He shook his head, his eyes dark. "Don't care."

"Well I do."

"Then perhaps I should seduce you like you seduce me." Her adrenaline spiked, and she swallowed heavily. "I tried fighting this, but there's no point. I want you." He caressed her cheek. "So very, very much."

"Fiyero-" she warned.

"Yes, my love?"

She blinked. "What? You don't love me."

The sudden sternness in his face actually managed to dent her resolve. "I assure you I do."

"But love is what we've chosen, or something," she tried to remember Nessa's line. "It takes time. This is just some infatuation. It'll fade." Oz, she hoped so.

"I _have_ chosen." He caught her hand to kiss each finger softly. "It can only grow deeper and stronger with time."

"No. We can choose to stop this insanity." She pulled herself free. "We should stop this. Control ourselves."

He shrugged. "The heart wants what it wants. It can't be controlled."

"Well, it should be!" This conversation was accomplishing her nothing, and felt her resistance crumble word by word. "Your heart is wrong."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Is it?"

"Yes." She turned away from him. "Even if I am…attracted," she swallowed the word thickly, "you are no more attainable than the Wizard of Oz."

"Oh?" He chuckled. "Have you another secret affection that I didn't know of?"

"Don't be daft." She rolled her eyes despite his inability to see from behind her, annoyed with his flippancy. "Any future between us is impossible, and the sooner we accept this as such, the sooner we can move on with our lives."

"Move on?" He spun her to face him. "How do you plan to move on when I'm to marry your sister? You think we'll see each other every day, and this will change? You think a life married to man who desperately loves another is fairer to her?"

"Better than the opposite!"

"Is it?" he whispered darkly. "Are you so certain? Because whatever happens, I will always want you. You will be the one I think about every morning. You will be the one in my dreams every night. Your future will be the one that matters most to me. You, and only you. Is that really what you want?"

"Don't be so histrionic."

He lifted her jaw so she had to look him in the eye. "It will _not_ change."

The now-familiar intensity in his gaze took her breath anew, and she blinked up at him mutely. He brushed his nose lightly against her cheek and drew a deep breath.

She clutched the arm of the sofa like a shield, separating them enough to enable her logical reasoning. "Why not Nessa? You could love her."

He spread his hands wide as if she were asking him to explain why water was wet. "She's not you."

"And I'm not yours."

He shut his eyes, a wounded look flashing across his face before he regained his composure. "But I _am_ yours. And will always be."

"I can't be what you need." Elphaba hid her gaze out the window, studying the trees and trying not to imagine his eyes. "You need a wife, a queen – children for Oz-sake. I have no interest in those things."

"At this point in your life." Fiyero set his hands on her shoulders and slid his palms slowly down her arms. "But I think you limit yourself too soon."

"I won't hurt Nessa like that."

"Would she be so wounded? Surely she can't have such established feelings as we share. She barely knows me. We've spent no more than a few moments alone together, and at best, we've discussed only our affection for you and Aruc."

Elphaba blinked. "You've discussed me?"

"Only briefly, as I said." His smile was sad. "Does that surprise you?"

"Yes."

He fitted his arms firmly around her waist. "You are the center of most of my thoughts. Even that first week that you and Aruc burst in our lecture after your silly running, I'd been distracted with thoughts of you. I spend that lesson each week thinking of you and when I'll see you. And when you told me that Nessa thought me distant, I'm ashamed to confess I knew exactly why."

"So you mean to say you've been ignoring her this whole time for me?"

"Not purposefully." He drew a heavy breath. "But yes."

"Then I should leave. You would love her if you spent time with her."

She retreated a few steps before he called, "It's too late for that. I'm afraid I'm already lost in you, my love. And if you left, I would just follow."

"No." She turned to frown at him. "You can't."

He crossed to her as he said, "But I would." He ignored her pout at his obstinacy and tilted her chin toward him with a light caress. "So don't go."

She deflated. "I shouldn't leave Nessa anyway."

"No, you shouldn't." He smiled, leaning down even as he said it. "You should stay right here."

"Well, I can't stay right here. I'll need to eat and sleep at some point."

"You cheeky-" He pressed a quick kiss to her lips before she could stop him. "Careful, or I will keep you right here, you little temptress."

"Me?"

"Taunting me with thoughts of you sleeping. Tell me…" He kissed her forehead and, when her eyes reflexively closed, each of her eyelids. "How do you wear your hair to bed? I should imagine it accurately, shouldn't I?"

She rolled her eyes. "And that is what you imagine? My hair?"

"Why, Miss Elphaba," his voice husky, "must you be so scandalous?" His lips traced from temple to jaw. "I doubt you'd like to know what it is I really picture."

Her cheeks flamed. "But _I'm_ cheeky?"

His low chuckle rumbled against her. "Mmm, usually."

"Fiyero!" She pushed back, not half so appalled, as she should have been. "This is hardly princely behavior."

"Well, in that case…" He kissed her again before she could stop him, but not the sweet, chaste or lingering ones that he'd delivered before. This kiss was strong, demanding, fiery. He sucked her lower lip into his mouth, and she moaned as her body ignited in a wave of feeling she'd never experienced.

"Ohh," she breathed, and she clutched his shoulder tightly. All rational thought fled. She pulled him closer, and he pressed her against the window, so hot against her back in the afternoon sun. Her world vanished into his touch and only two dim realizations:

This was wicked.

And wicked felt amazing.


	21. Trapped

AN: Thank you to all the reviewers for the last chapter. The constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. I finished this chapter early, so I thought I'd post it as penance for all the times I was late. Please let me know what you think of it. As always, thank you for reading, and please enjoy.

* * *

Elphaba paced. Aruc had left the last night for business, and so she found herself alone for the first time in the library. In fact, she'd barely had this much time alone save her sickness stunt since she'd arrived. As someone naturally better suited to a solitary existence, she should have been thrilled. Instead, she paced.

She would kiss Fiyero. Probably. The thought drove her to exhaustion. It was a terrible, awful thing to do, but she felt certain however much she resisted, she would kiss him. And he would kiss back. And that wild explosion at the edge of her universe would swallow them both whole. Was it even worth fighting anymore?

Her footsteps didn't cover the squeak of the stairs, and she froze in place. This was it. Unseen, she heard Fiyero draw a deep breath just outside the door, matched by her own. He took a cautious step in. Her eyes traced his face. The yearning look in his eyes hadn't lessened, but his jaw was so tense. "What is it?"

He stepped forward to admit Nessa.

Elphaba stared for a moment in disbelief. Of course. How stupid of her. Without Aruc to entertain Nessa, they'd have no excuse to keep her from their work.

"So this is the library?" She swayed forward. "It's a little more…cramped than I expected."

"A kind euphemism for messy," Fiyero's attempt at self-effacing charm felt half-hearted. "I apologize."

Elphaba should have spoken, moved to help her sister, picked up a book, anything to look less suspicious. But she couldn't. Her eyes fixated on Nessa standing directly in the middle of their secret haven. All their intrigue and deceit, good-natured and not, pressed with a sudden force to the forefront of her mind. Oz.

Fiyero shot her a look, and she broke her shock enough to stagger forward. "Nessa."

"What?"

"You're…" She forced herself to think. She was far too clever to act like this. "You should sit down after all those stairs." She helped her sister to the only seat cleared in the room – the sofa. With great effort, she pressed away images of what they'd done when last there.

"So. Where is this book you've both spoken so highly of?"

Elphaba glared wide-eyed at Fiyero for help. "It's…"

"Here." He held out a less-dusty novel that she prayed she'd read before.

"Oh, thank you," Nessa offered as Elphaba took the book, subtly scanning the title. Blue Utopia. Damn. "Please don't let us bother you, though. I know you have much work to do."

"My pleasure." Her cheeks flamed at the way his tongue handled that particular word, and when she dared look up, he shared a similar expression. They wouldn't fool an idiot at this rate. He cleared a space at the desk across the room smoothly enough that Nessa didn't ask why it needed clearing. With no real work to do, Fiyero set about shuffling papers and doodling with a very convincing pensive expression. She almost laughed.

"Blue Utopia…That sounds interesting."

"It is." Or at least Elphaba hoped so. Oh, Oz! What if it was another of Aruc's lewd literary adventures?

"What's it about?"

She shifted. "It's best to read it yourself, I think. There's a great deal of subtly and symbolism that I couldn't begin to convey with the proper effect."

Fiyero peeked up and flashed an apologetic expression, having worked out that she hadn't read it. Without reacting, she opened the book and started to read along. "Fabala, you needn't abandon your own book for my sake."

"I've been meaning to reread this, actually. You're giving me the perfect excuse."

Fiyero's chuckle was barely audible, but both girls looked up. He turned a page with false sobriety, and Nessa turned back to the page. Elphaba took longer to drag her eyes away, so she caught his clandestine wink. They spent much of the afternoon thus engaged, with Nessa oblivious to the tension and resulting amusement of the others.

Elphaba didn't need to look at Fiyero, nor he at her, for the pair to share a silent communication. She could practically hear his boredom in the shuffling of pages and scratching of quill. At least she had a book to distract herself with, not that she could focus on it. She wondered idly if he did have work to do, and if not, why? Surely the prince had duties. Had they been suspended in preparation for the wedding? She'd have to ask him later.

"I'm done," Nessa whispered, the only voice to break the odd stillness.

Elphaba turned the page.

Fiyero scratched some convincing doodle.

She scanned the intricate prose, and waited.

"I'm done."

Elphaba turned the page.

Fiyero scratched some convincing doodle.

She scanned the intricate prose, and waited.

"I'm done."

Elphaba turned the page.

Fiyero scratched some convinc-BOOM!

They all jumped at the loud slam that reverberated from window, whirling to face the unexpected danger. "What the-" A falcon floundered beyond the glass, its wings battered from the impact. Disoriented the bird flew toward them again, and Fiyero rushed forward, Elphaba close behind.

"What's it doing here?"

"I don't know," he grunted as he worked at the latch. "But it's going to beat itself into a broken wing if it keeps this up."

"You're letting it in?" Nessa drew back in horror.

"I hope not. Is this the same one you saw with Aruc?"

"I…I don't know. How would I tell? Is there…I don't know, falcon facial features or something?"

"You saw a falcon?"

"Yesterday. In the western garden. Weren't you listening at dinner?" No, she'd been trying not to grin foolishly at Fiyero and for the large part failing.

The latch finally gave, and Fiyero swung the window open. He filled the empty space to keep the falcon out, waving his arms to shoo the bird away. The falcon hovered in an uneven circle, and with a disgruntled screech, retreated. "It looks so sad," Elphaba murmured as they watched the bird fly a safe distance off. "I hope it's alright."

Fiyero paused, the glass half-shut, and smiled gently at her. "Don't worry. Falcons have remarkable survival instincts. It'll be fine."

"What bought it here, do you think?"

He lowered the pane the rest of the way. "Probably the reflection. It must be looking for another falcon, and thought it was trapped in here."

"Does that happen often here?"

He shook his head. "Not at all. Falcons are not rare, but they usually avoid humans."

"Is that why you think it's the same one?"

He smiled and tugged on her braid. "Very good."

"Falcons must not be too clever, then, if they're getting lost all the time." She peered over her shoulder at Nessa's comment, surprised to see a subtle pout.

"Not at all," Fiyero replied, securing the stubborn latch. "In fact, they are notoriously clever. That's part of why they're so dangerous. But they are stubborn birds, loyal. If it is searching for its mate, I wouldn't be surprised to see it again."

"Couldn't it just find another mate?"

Fiyero shot her a look. "No."

"But…it's just a bird."

"A monogamous bird. Without his mate, he will die."

Elphaba smirked. "Now you're just being melodramatic."

"Ask Aruc tomorrow if you doubt my ornithology." Fiyero lifted an eyebrow in challenge, and Elphaba cackled at him, drawing Nessa into giggles as well. "What?"

She patted his arm. "No one's doubting your bird skills. Calm down."

"I am perfectly calm."

Though he was, she couldn't suppress another round of chuckles. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say."

He pinched her cheek with a grin, her mirth clearly infectious. "That's right. About time you started following that."

"Oh is it?" She stepped toward him with a haughty tilt to her nose.

"Damn right." He grinned down at her, and she grinned stupidly back. His eyes traced her lips, and she forced her open mouth shut to swallow. Heart pounding and short of breath, she could only stare at his lips for salvation, memorizing the exact fraction of a second that they would descend toward hers.

Nessa cleared her throat, and Elphaba rocketed away from Fiyero before the thought even fully registered: He almost kissed her. And she almost kissed back. In front of Nessa.

Cheeks burning, Elphaba would have liked nothing better than to hide in the vain hope that they could all deny that anything had happened, but like a train wreck, she found her eyes glued to the scene of the crime, unable to look away. Nessa frowned. "At least you didn't slap each other. That's progress I suppose."

"It…is?"

She leaned back in the cushions, a disapproving pinch to her lips. "Though I don't see what about a silly bird is worth fighting about."

Elphaba gaped at her and, utterly confused, at Fiyero for explanation. He cleared his own throat. "You're right, of course, Miss Nessarose. We apologize for arguing over something so frivolous."

When she didn't answer, he nudged her. "Right. Sorry, Nessa."

"It's no bother to me," Nessa said, negating her own words with her scornful expression. "I would simply hope by now that my sister and fiancée could find it within themselves to quit quarreling at the least provocation. Perhaps we should resume our reading. That seems to be less troublesome."

Numbly, Elphaba returned to her position on the couch, still uncertain if her sister had so completely misinterpreted the moment. She turned the pages, too stunned to absorb any content, and struggled not to stare at Fiyero for explanation. He returned to his scribbles, and the afternoon slowly faded around them.

* * *

Elphaba never would have thought she'd miss Aruc. And to such an extent! Without his interference, the afternoon dragged into dinner, which limped painfully into evening. What she wouldn't give for a dose of his easy humor or that large booming laugh that dared anyone not to join in. Anything to break up the awkward silence.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" Fiyero asked Nessa as she stared sulkily out the window, but she shook her head. "We could read for a bit, if you'd rather."

She wrinkled her nose. "No, thank you. That little room is so miserable." She rested her head on her sister's shoulder. "I don't see how you stand being stuffed in there all day." His guilty eyes found Elphaba's over the girl's head, but she ripped her gaze away to study the flooring. "I don't think you two should spend so much time there," Nessa continued in her bossiest voice. "No wonder you've been acting so strangely. That much quiet would drive anyone insane."

"He has work to do," Elphaba managed to keep her voice even. "Surely you wouldn't have him neglect his obligations." He frowned at her choice of wording, her hidden meaning clear to him. Though he daren't argue here, his glare left no doubt of his disapproval.

"No, I suppose not," Nessa sighed. "Perhaps we should meditate on the will of the Unnamed God. I always find that a worthwhile occupation."

Fiyero's twitch was brief enough to pass undetected. "We could adjourn to the west balcony. Sunset has passed, but I recall a certain fondness for the view there, yes?"

The memory of his arms around her, so innocent at the time, sprung to her imagination with a ferocity that made her blush. "With a thick blanket, perhaps." Fiyero lifted his eyebrows, and the unintentional implications of her words had her sputtering, "For each of us. Because of the cold."

"If you wish." He let her suffer a long moment before he relaxed into a sly smirk. "Though I believe a jacket should suffice."

He stood and lent a helping hand to Nessa when a smooth, accented voice came behind them. "I do fear I interrupt."

Elphaba spun to face Three, her willowy figure accentuated with long, gauzy dress of pale yellow. Another color allergic to green skin. "You do," she snipped back, and Fiyero shot her a warning look.

"Miss Three. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Three swayed forward, all elegance and grace. "Please pardon the unannounced visit." She ran her eyes slowly over Fiyero's form with not so much as a dismissive glance at either sister. "Master Aruc sends me with his regards. His business lasts longer than anticipated," she rolled the word to last twice as long, her lips caressing it into a seduction, "but he hopes to rejoin you soon, late tomorrow or perhaps the next day."

Fiyero frowned. "Surely that did not necessitate a journey so late, and for a lady unescorted. He should show more judgment."

"Your Highness," a sly smile curling out the syllables, "you are as considerate as always. How kind to concern yourself with my safety." She swayed close enough to set her long fingers on his forearm with an adoring smile.

Elphaba wrinkled her nose. "Why did he send _you_, anyway?" She shuddered to think of Aruc trusting this loathsome shrew. Foolish though he was, she'd believed he had more sense, or at least he'd seemed to at their last meeting. Had she misread him? Or was he that desperate for a courier?

The glare flickered like an illusion across Three's face before she smoothed it into a cunning smirk. "As a favor to my dear Master Aruc, I offered to carry his message lest he worry of its arrival."

"So then it's your judgment and not Aruc's that is in question, if you volunteered."

Fiyero swallowed a smile at her logic before he slipped from Three's grip. "We thank you for your message, Miss Three. Have you reliable coachmen to return?"

She blinked, taken aback at such an early dismissal. "I suppose, Your Highness. Though…" She waved a hand. "Now that you mention the hour, it is quite late…" Elphaba rolled her eyes as the trollop basically invited herself to stay. As if anyone believed it to be an accident. Fiyero nodded with a formal invitation to stay, which Three eagerly accepted.

Nessa fell silent, intimidated by the tall, swaying beauty draped over Fiyero's stiff arm. Elphaba kept them both a deliberate step ahead so as to escape watching the pathetic girl throw herself after a twice-taken man. "I am surprised Aruc did not find a way to return," Fiyero commented to break the uneasy silence. "Wild horses could barely drag him from the enchanting presence of Miss Elphaba."

Three hid her scowl in a sharp-toothed smile. "Oh, he did wish me to convey to her personally his, how did he say, enormous and painful regrets at his necessary absence."

Elphaba tossed back, "Thank goodness he entrusted that message to you, Miss Three. A lesser messenger might have nearly forgotten to add it until someone explicitly asked."

"Yet, you seem no reflection of his regret. Do you even miss your devoted beau?"

"Oh, so he's mine now?" She smiled at the catty change in Three's tone. "Whether or not I miss Aruc is my own concern, and certainly none of yours. But since you asked, I have made it no secret from him that he is an unwelcome suitor if that is the path he chooses to pursue."

Fiyero stepped around them to open the door, a grin teasing his eyes. "Miss Elphaba, surely by now you've noticed that a man can do nothing to control the reigns you women slip over his heart."

Three returned to his side and slipped a hand over his bicep. "Quite true, Prince Fiyero. Your wisdom is remarkable."

Elphaba laughed. "Is it wisdom to blame women for men's weakness? If you can't control yourselves, perhaps women should take leadership and trade our roles. I'd much rather you be powdered and pressed into fluffy, heavy dresses than I."

"Would you?" Fiyero winked. "Your wish is, as always, my command."

Elphaba fought a laugh, but couldn't resist at the thought of Fiyero dressed in a puffy pink pinafore. "You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?" He lifted an eyebrow, and she considered that he might, in fact, simply to prove his point, whatever that might be.

"How scandalous!" Three fluttered her eyes. "Surely our prince is more masculine than to gallivant in women's clothing."

"Oh, I don't know," Fiyero teased. "I'd wager I could make petticoats a vision of masculinity, don't you?"

Elphaba rolled her eyes before Three could trill some vain flattery. "And what part of ruffles and lace do you find most manly?"

"Is not the proof of a man his willingness to sacrifice all for the woman he adores, most of all his pride?" came a voice behind them, and they spun to see Aruc outlined in the east door, still windswept and rumpled from his ride. "Trust me, I should know."

"Aruc!" Elphaba strode to meet him, surprised and grateful at his presence. "I thought you were kept away?"

He reached her halfway, scooping her up in a tight hug. "I found a way. It will cost me, but missing this," he ran his cool fingertips over her cheek to cup her chin, "would cost me far more I think."

"I missed you, you big lummox," she whispered, but Three heard and scoffed.

"Some unwelcome."

"As a suitor," she snapped back, "not as a friend."

Aruc held her tightly against him and cooed in her hair, "So I'm friend, now? If I knew I'd be promoted just from absence, I'd have left sooner."

"It's harder to remember how annoying you can be when you're not here to prove it."

He laughed. "I see. Shall I leave again?"

"No." She gripped his hand before he could take another step toward the door. Not another night in awkward silence, or day strained in secrets. "You would abandon us again just to spite me?"

He cupped her cheek. "No, I fear I won't ever be able to leave again after such a warm welcome from my cool beauty." He brushed a thumb over her jaw with a lingering smile, and then he pulled back. "And how is the lovely Nessarose?"

Nessa smiled, though it fell flat, and Aruc went to her side. They fell into quiet discussion that Elphaba missed due to the thundering volume of Fiyero's eyes boring into her, hot and cold all at once. She might have missed the look on his face if she hadn't felt it so recently in her own features. Jealousy.

Masked and controlled, but clear nonetheless.

She wrapped her arms around her waist, coaching herself to ignore him. Fiyero had no more legitimate cause than she had, and despite his reaction, she knew he believed Aruc to be no rival. Not that either of them should have a right, regardless, considering his near-marital status. Three continued her hopeless assault on Fiyero, despite his dismissals. For his part, he sent a clear message in his attentive devotion to Nessarose, broken only by the furtive glances at Elphaba that he struggled to hide. Nessa eyed the pair cautiously, slipping into whispers with Aruc, who alternated in rapt attention to her and sly smiles to Elphaba. All of this silent secrecy weighed on her as she struggled to avoid them all.

"The hour is quite late," Three hinted with a measured yawn behind delicate fingers. "I fear the trip here took more energy than I anticipated."

"I told you that you needn't have bothered," Aruc said.

She hid her annoyance with a smooth smile. "Nonsense. I know how honorable you are with your commitments, particularly to such a close companion as our noble prince. I am grateful I could be of service, though I did believe you to be unavoidably detained."

Aruc caught Elphaba's eye. "Well, provide a man proper motivation, and he'll move the stars in the heavens."

"Apparently." Three rested a hand on Fiyero's bicep again. "Your highness, I so hate to impose…"

"Ready to retire, I imagine?" She nodded, and Fiyero called a steward out of the shadows. Three's eyes widened comically. "Show Miss Three to her quarters."

The steward bowed his head, but Three did not follow. "Goodnight, then, Prince Fiyero."

He looked at the rest, as if surprised to be singled out despite her clear obsession with him. "Goodnight, Miss Three."

Hesitantly, Three turned and followed the silent steward toward the opposite end of the castle. "I hope you kept her room far from yours," Aruc teased once she'd left the room. "That woman is more predatory than a mountain lion."

Fiyero gave him a playful shove. "Thanks for sending her my way."

"Hey, she insisted. I told her I'd manage a way, but she's relentless. And I figured, at least this way, if I couldn't work it out, you wouldn't be expecting me."

"Perhaps I'll put her next to your room."

Aruc shrugged. "Why would she settle for less than royalty? Besides, my heart is clearly taken." He winked at Elphaba, who frowned.

"As is Fiyero," Nessa offered, and Elphaba shifted nervously.

He caught her eye with a meaningful stare. "That I am."

But she dropped his gaze to stare at the ground, sadness rather than commitment tingeing her words. "That you are."


	22. Diamonds

AN: Please forgive the lateness of this update. I was out of town last week, and this chapter needed a little more work than I remembered. I may be revising this as I reread it. But as a couple reviewers gently pointed out, it has been too long between updates already. Thank you for helping me stay on top of that. Please let me know what you think, and thank you so much for reading.

* * *

The next few days bled together in a sea of frustration. Fiyero refused to accept their situation, and as much as Elphaba pushed him away, she knew she'd fallen for him just as hopelessly. Guilt and indecision kept a steady war against his constant temptation, but with so many witnesses, their time together was rare enough to pass innocently, with only dark, yearning gazes that hinted at promises and echoed of prohibition. The wedding loomed closer with every passing second, and the clock had started to sound like a ticking time bomb, pressing down on them with dread.

All this guilt followed her into her sleep to twist her dreams in dark nightmares. Thrice she'd woken up, the memory of her sister's blood on her hands, and had to check to make sure it had been an illusion. She jerked awake again, coated in sweat, and stared again at her un-bloodied hands. Her stomach twisted at the memory, even as she chanted to herself that it hadn't been real. Unconvinced, she stumbled from the covers, compelled by her false superstitions, and made the now familiar track through the darkened suite to her sister's room. Nessa lay sleeping, her face peaceful, and Elphaba drew a heavy sigh.

This had to stop. Now.

And in a fit of half-dreamt urgency, she slipped from their suite into the hall beyond.

The darkened hallway seemed transformed by the night, ominous with shadows that flickered over her as she stole toward his room. She'd never been, but she knew his room to be the farthest east. The stairs on this side were smooth stone, spiraling up into inky darkness broken only by the slats of silver moonlight that seeped through the narrow windows. The irregular shapes ruined any depth perceptions, and she had to feel her way to each step with blind caution. Only when she reached the top did she consider how foolish her actions had been thus far. What if she guessed wrong the wrong room? What excuse could she possibly manufacture?

She'd almost talked herself into leaving when she heard a soft sigh. It could have been anyone, but she had a feeling fate had drawn her to Fiyero's room. In the day, she would have dismissed it. But in the moon and shadows, when silence seemed concrete and magic tangible, Elphaba couldn't help but see it as a sign.

She edged the door open.

Beyond the entrance, a spectacular window spilled moonlight on his sleeping form - Fiyero. She let out the breath she'd been holding and clicked the door shut behind her.

Now that he was in front of her, her plan wavered. What now? Should she wake him? Of course she would have to if she planned to end their forbidden affair. But how? Too loud, and she'd risk exposure. And to shake him awake, she'd have to touch him. As appealing as that was, it was far more dangerous. She whispered his name as loud as she dared, but with no answer. She bumped the edge of the bed, but it held firm. She leaned over to shake his pillow, but at the last second, decided that she was too close and pulled away. Anxious, she paced beside the bed, tongue sucking her teeth lightly in thought.

"Elphaba?" She spun to face a very confused Fiyero. He rubbed his bleary eyes. "What…are you here? Am I asleep?"

"No. I mean, yes, I'm here." She gathered herself. "You're not asleep."

"What are you doing here?" He sat up and shook his head to clear it, and his sheet slipped down to reveal a beautifully muscled chest. Covering his bare skin were large diamonds, an iridescent silvery-blue in the moonlight.

"What are those?" She squinted at the shimmering shapes in surprise, unable to discover what would form that pattern of shadows. "Are they…ink?" Fascinated, she reached out to touch them, tracing the painted pattern winding over his warm skin.

He sucked in a breath as her fingers trailed over his chest. His eyes fluttered closed, and he stilled her hands with his own. "Careful."

"Sorry." She pulled back, eyes wide. "Did I hurt you?"

"Quite the opposite." The intensity of his eyes melted through her, and she gulped her own ragged breath. "Oz, you tempt me beyond insanity."

"Oh," her voice small.

The diamonds stretched with his flexed muscles as he pushed away from the bed, and her eyes followed him helplessly. He slung a shirt over his torso, though he didn't bother to button it. "What is it? Are you alright?" She nodded dumbly, flashes of blue melting her powers of speech. It hardly seemed fair that he managed to be even more attractive. As if he needed the help. He tilted her face to his, breaking her spell, and she blushed. "Not that I'm complaining, but are you planning to tell me why you're in my room?"

"We…" Her brain sputtered to a stop. What had she been here for?

He caught her lips in a soft, burning kiss. "Please, Oz, say you were going to tell me that you're seeing things my way."

"Fiyero…we can't."

He dropped the hand on her chin with a sigh. "And sneaking into my bedroom would help matters how?"

A fair point. She wrenched her eyes away and crossed her arms. "I can't stand it anymore. I hate lying to her."

"Are you?"

Elphaba sent him a stern look. "Omission is still lying."

"Well then…" He took a step toward her, edging her to the bed with graceful prowess. "So long as we're lying…"

"Fiyero," she warned as he tipped her backward to sit heavily on his bed. "I shouldn't be here." He leaned over her, leading her to lie back on her elbows. "Especially not _here _here. On your…" She swallowed. He ran his lips over her fingers, hand, arm. "I shouldn't have come." He reached her neck, her ear, making the sensitive skin sing beneath his touch. Oh, Oz. Her resolve waning, she wound her fingers in his soft, dark hair. "Why are you such trouble?"

"Me?" He pulled back to grin at her with mock outrage. "You're the one sneaking in my room in the dead of night, you little seductress."

"I just wanted to talk."

He chuckled. "Talk, huh. Is that what you call before?"

"Don't blame me if your skin is fascinating." He lifted an eyebrow, and she scowled. "I mean…"

"No, no. If you find them fascinating…" He shrugged off the loose shirt and brought her hand back to his chest. "By all means, study to your heart's content."

She wanted to be angry with him for teasing her, but she couldn't. Not with those hypnotic diamonds twisting and turning with the firm muscles beneath. "What are they?" she breathed, a curious finger tracing one over his heart.

"Tattoo," his voice wavered. "Tribe and rank."

"Everyone has them?"

His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, his eyelids weighted and heavy. "No. Just the royal family." He swallowed a groan as her finger traced lower over his tense stomach.

"So Nessa will?"

A flicker of frustration. "No."

"Why not?"

"You know why." His eyes darkened. "They're paired - eternal." He shook his head. "Not her."

She pushed free to stand. "Well, it won't be me."

"Why are you so insistent? She doesn't love me any more than I love her. It was arranged, a convenience not a proposal. How can she want a marriage like this? Not just without love, without even the hope of it?"

"She wants to marry you."

"You know? You've asked?"

Elphaba fidgeted. "Not in so many words, but…"

"At least let her choose. Don't condemn us all without giving her that chance."

With a heavy sigh, she nodded.

He kissed her palm. "We'll ask. Together. I'll confess. You don't have to say anything unless she asks."

Elphaba rushed away not long after, not daring to tempt herself with a half-clothed, blue diamonded Fiyero bent on her seduction. Between that and the confrontation looming before her, she found sleep even more elusive than before. Finally, dawn brought company to her worries, and she gratefully abandoned the pretense of sleep. Her jitters made it difficult to dress Nessa as each word to break the silence startled her anew. After a few pokes and a sharp tug to her hair, Nessa surrendered.

Breakfast was a foul-tempered affair all around. Tender-headed Nessa sulked in her bryla. Fiyero slouched, exhaustion showing as he brushed off Three's approaches. The king and Frex grumbled of politics and economics that would have interested Elphaba greatly if not for her total preoccupation with how an armless girl would attempt to murder her. Every face held wavering degrees of annoyance, anxiety, and frustration. All save Aruc. He grinned widely and stretched, pleased at his seat beside her.

"And you, my elusive angel? What are your plans for the day?"

Hmmm… Somehow get her sister alone. Confess an entirely inappropriate attraction for said sister's fiancé. Dodge attempted murder/vengeance/weeping and plead for mercy from all their parents in a false hope that she might marry the prince instead, a potential fate which held equal parts excitement, nausea, and total dread. She mumbled a defeated, "I don't know."

"Perhaps we could all go for a ride," Aruc suggested. "I have yet to see these riding skills I've heard of."

Elphaba paled. "Nor are you likely to."

"It's hopeless," Fiyero interrupted his friend before he could argue. "You'd be more likely to convince her to dance naked in the courtyard."

"A lovely visual, and I must say, much better than my plan." Aruc leaned over to leer at her cheekily. "What do you say?"

She pushed his face away with a dry, "I'd rather be eaten by Lions."

"A ride sounds heavenly," Three drawled in her spiced dialect. "Does it not, dear Prince?"

"If you prefer. I'm certain Aruc would be willing even if Miss Elphaba is not to attend, yes?"

"Oh, how smoothly you obligate me," Aruc laughed, drawing a smirk from the prince in confirmation. "Though without this beauty it has lost some of its appeal, an afternoon with a lovely woman is never a burden." Elphaba almost laughed at how handily Fiyero dispensed of them both, leaving them free to speak with Nessa.

"I would so hate to separate Master Aruc from his beloved," Three oozed insincerity. "Perhaps we should reserve our ride until we are all amenable."

Fiyero's false charm met her just as adeptly. "I fear you underestimate Miss Elphaba's dislike of all matters equestrian."

"Then what of your fiancée?"

"Yes, splendid!" Aruc grinned in triumph. "Nessa, you love horses, right?" Her sister nodded with such a miserable expression that even his joviality faltered a bit. Elphaba frowned. Did Nessa already know more than she'd let on?

Three leaned back, a coy smile tilting her eyes. "Surely Your Highness would not deny your dear fiancée a charming morning ride through our countryside. Undoubtedly Master Aruc would be content to keep Miss Elphaba company until our return."

"Lovely!" Aruc chimed, clearly thrilled, and Elphaba swallowed a groan. Damn. They'd been so close.

Nessa cleared her throat, "Perhaps later. I'm not really in the mood for riding." Her eyes darted from Fiyero to Three and back - no doubt intimidated at serving as the only chaperone to defend her fiancé from the slimy advances of the willowy predator.

Three renewed her maneuvers to slip away with the prince, but Fiyero stood. "Regardless, I am afraid we must table this. I believe my fiancée and I have some matters of the wedding to discuss." His carefree manner slipped into the mannered nobility he'd directed to her father. It brokered no compromise or argument. "Nessa, Elphaba, shall we?"

"What can you need her for?" Three lifted an eyebrow, and when Fiyero turned his authoritative gaze to her in annoyance, she fought the instinctive dip of her chin, refusing to be cowed. "Not your fiancée, of course, but what could Miss Elphaba possibly provide?"

His smile seemed cold and sharp. "Certainly that is of no concern to you, Miss Three." A second more of that penetrating stare, and she surrendered.

"Of course, your Highness."

Elphaba led her sister to the hall, swallowing her sneer at Three's comeuppance. Fiyero led them toward the opposite wing of the castle, beyond where the other two would think to look, and she focused on the sound of each step, the nuance of guiding her sister, anything she could think of to distract herself that this conversation was really about to happen. He held the door to a warm salon, neglected in the day due to its heat.

"Miss Nessarose, please forgive me for taking you from the others this morning."

"Not at all. The wedding is much more pressing, of course. It's so hard to imagine we've only two more days."

"Quite. How deceptively fast time travels." He cleared his throat. "I'm afraid I have something to confess." Nessa's smile threatened to fall, and Elphaba bit her lip. "While I think of you very fondly," Fiyero tilted his head back and sighed, "I…surely you are aware that I do not love you."

Elphaba glared at him. He didn't have to phrase it like that.

Nessa blinked. "I…I suppose. I mean, we were paired rather than courted, but I had hoped…"

He set his hand on her cheek, his eyes kind. "I had hoped, too, sweet Nessarose. There is nothing about you not to be loved. You are as kind, and sweet, and beautiful as any man could ask, and far more than I claim to deserve."

"Then…?"

He stepped back as Nessa frowned. "I cannot love you, because I have already fallen in love, quite hopelessly, with-"

"Another woman," Elphaba blurted before he could implicate her. And she couldn't decide which made her more ashamed: the sudden cowardice, or the betrayal that had caused a need for it.

Nessa spun to face her, shocked. "You knew? How long? And you told me nothing?"

"I-"

"Please," Fiyero intervened. "I am the one at fault. And I wish I could find in my heart to regret it. Please believe me that I never meant to hurt you, but you deserve more than this."

"So…what are you saying?"

"I cannot marry you, Nessarose."

Nessa scowled. "Why? Just because you've gone and gotten all dewy-eyed for some tramp seducing a nearly married man?" Elphaba flinched. "So I'm to be replaced, like a faulty wheel?"

"That's not at all what I mean," Fiyero frowned, unsettled by her venomous reaction.

"Oh? The Unnamed God commands us to honor our commitments. I've honored mine. If you've," she swallowed, "not, well, then it's my duty as your wife to forgive."

"But you're not my wife. Not yet."

Nessa clenched her jaw, her eyes hard and narrowed. "We made commitments."

He set a soft hand on her cheek. "But it's not too late. You can undo this before it's even done."

"And why should I?" Nessa shook her head. "You want me to go tell everyone that I couldn't even…" She trailed off, her face a portrait of bitter misery.

"I'll explain," he offered gently. "Or if you'd rather, I'll make another excuse. Whatever you'd prefer."

"I'd _prefer_ you to marry me like you promised."

He leaned back, surprised at how hard her voice came out. He shook his head, aghast, "Why? Why would you still want to marry me, knowing I love another?"

Nessa pursed her lips tightly. "You promised."

"But-" He raked his fingers through his hair and tugged hard on a handful. "Nessa, I don't want to hurt you. How can I be the husband you deserve if I don't love you?"

"Love is subjective. Provided you stop this condemned affair, I would suitably content with you."

His jaw tensed. "And if I don't?"

Nessa's eyes lit with a fire with that streak of trademark stubborn temper running rampant through all Thropp women. "You'd better." For a long moment, they stared at each other, a battle of wills that felt odd with Elphaba sidelined, but she had nothing to add. No matter who won, she knew she would lose. Did it really matter? Married to her sister or not, she couldn't really see herself being with him after Nessa's reaction. As she'd said all along. At least she could say she'd been right.

A loud knock interrupted their fierce glaring match, and Fiyero called a terse, "Not now." The knock came again, and he stalked to the door. "I said, not now!"

He flung it open to glare witheringly at Three. "I beg your pardon, Prince Fiyero." She ran her eyes over him and then back to Nessarose, and she took a wise step back. "Your mother called for you. Urgently."

He drew a frustrated breath. "We'll continue this conversation later," he promised, and then followed a smug Three into the corridor. The door swung shut behind them, and Nessa crumpled into a weary slump.

"Oh, he's disgraceful!" Nessa fumbled toward the divan, and Elphaba rushed to help her sit. "Utterly disgraceful!"

"Then why marry him?" She knelt in front of her sister, brushing the hair back from the girl's face. "He's right. Nothing been done yet that couldn't be undone."

"You wouldn't understand, Fabala. It's as much the principle of the matter as anything else."

"And I couldn't understand principles?"

"I'm not a hermit, like you," she snapped, then cratered into a self-pitying frown. "Though I suppose I should be a hussy like Three to taunt him into bed as well. Well I won't do it. He's my husband. Mine. I refuse to sin just to keep him."

"Three?"

"As if I don't know who. Who else would it be?" Elphaba studied the ground, and Nessa sighed. "Damn him. How dare he cheat on me before we even married? As if I didn't have enough worries about the whole thing."

"Then don't marry him."

"Fabala, please. Of course I have to marry him. Imagine the shame, telling Father."

"But Fiyero said-"

"Yes, well, Fiyero says a lot of things, doesn't he?" She stared across the salon. "No, I'll marry him. And I'll pray he stays faithful."

Elphaba sighed, "It means that much to you? Just to be married. Doesn't matter to who."

Nessa's shrug was sharp, fierce. "Don't I deserve a husband? A family? Haven't I earned it?"

"Even if it means a life without love?"

She thought a moment. "Even then."


	23. Appeals

"Nessa…" Elphaba began, but her sister shook her head. The anger and hurt wafted off the girl in waves, and Elphaba ached to make it easier somehow. But how? Protective she could manage with her eyes closed, but sensitive and empathetic? She might as well speak Quadling and dance like a Chicken.

The door swung open, and Frexspar strode in the heated salon, a box laced with shining white ribbon in his hands. "There you are. How is my little bride-to-be?" Nessa tried to smile, but it fell flat. "Now, now. None of that. Nothing to be nervous of." He led her back to the bench with an arm around her shoulders. "Whatever nonsense your sister has filled your head with, ignore it."

"Fabala didn't say anything. It's Fiyero. He doesn't…" She shook her head. "Never mind. What did you bring me, Father?"

He sat beside her, "A gift for the most beautiful bride in the Land of Oz." He untied the bow and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Just a little something for your big day." Then he lifted the top of the box to reveal a pair of stunning silver shoes that glittered so wondrously in the sunlight that they seemed imbued with magic.

"Oh, Blessed Unnamed God." Nessa bowed her head in a showy prayer of gratitude that made Elphaba roll her eyes. "They're so beautiful!"

"Only the best for my little girl."

"Oh, Father." She kissed his cheek, and he wrapped her in a soft embrace.

"Would you like to wear them to your fitting?"

Her eager smile was answer enough, a welcome change to the smoldering misery of a few minutes past. "Is that now?"

He nodded. "The final one."

"Thank goodness." Frex laughed at the face she made. "Too many pins and proddings. It makes me feel like a human voodoo doll."

He knelt and slid the dazzling slippers on her feet. With his arm around her shoulders, she took a few steps, mesmerized by the glinting reflections it cast about the room. "My beautiful little girl," he beamed, as shining as the shoes, and Nessa grinned back. Elphaba watched her father lead the girl out, both too immersed in conversation about the seamstress's love of chatter and garlic to notice that his oldest daughter hadn't followed. Sometimes it was hard to correlate the warm kindness her father showed to his youngest daughter with the cold indifference she knew from her own experiences. When she watched him love Nessa, though, it was almost enough to make her love him in exchange.

She scrubbed a hand over her face. Perhaps Fiyero could learn to feel the same. He'd have to, really. She'd just have to convince him.

Elphaba stepped into the hallway, fully prepared to comb the castle in search for him when Fiyero strode around the corner. He nodded toward the salon, and she ducked back inside. "Fiye-" she started as he barreled through the door, but he cut her off with a fierce, demanding kiss.

"Don't you dare," he said in a voice so intense, it came out as a strained whisper. "Don't you dare tell me I've got to marry your sister."

"It's true." He shook his head, and she dodged when he dipped his head for another kiss. "Stop it, Fiyero. Just stop it." She pressed a hand into his chest, pushing him back, and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Look, we tried. It didn't work. We have to let it go."

"No." His lips thinned in a sharp frown. "This is crazy, Elphaba. Full and complete insanity. I can't even believe we have to suffer when there's an obvious solution." He punctuated every other word with a gesture, flitting from sharp to pleading over and over. "Why in Oz should I marry a girl I don't love when a beautiful, perfect, amazing girl is right here? A girl I desperately love, and who I'm certain is just as in love with me."

Elphaba turned her back. "Oh, for Oz's sake."

"You're damn right. This is ludicrous."

"She's my sister, Fiyero. My baby sister, and you saw how upset she was."

"That doesn't mean it's wrong, just because she's upset!" He leaned his head back. "And when we're actually married, and I still don't love her? How upset will she be then?"

"It doesn't matter." His face was mutinous, and she sighed. "Think for a second, will you? What do you think would happen when my father finds out? He'd never let you out of the agreement, and if Nessa wants you, he'll move heaven and earth to make that happen."

"And your happiness?" Her look was answer enough, and he shot back bitterly, "Then damn your father, too. The way he treats you, he's lucky I haven't sent him out in the desert to die of thirst."

"He'll go to your parents. They'll make you."

That stopped him for a moment. He shrugged. "You're right. They can force me to marry her." Even as he said it, he pulled her closer. "But in name only. And anything they can do is worth it if it means you."

"It doesn't." Elphaba studied the ground. "I've done enough. I can't anymore. I feel so wicked, every day. I won't betray her again."

"El-"

"No. It stops." She swallowed the pain at her own words and pressed a firm hand into his chest. "For good. No matter what I feel, or want, it's done."

He set his hands on her shoulders. "I can't accept that." His palms skated down her arms as his lips found her ear. "You know I can't. I swear I will move mountains if I have to. Anything for you."

"Anything?"

He turned her face to meet his wry glare. "I'm not so foolish as that. Anything besides marry your sister."

She shook herself free. "You act as if this is all my own design."

"No. But you hold the key to my chains, refusing to unlock them." He strode forward. "Tell me, Elphaba. If you're so quick to walk away. Tell me you don't love me, and I'll never mention this again."

She jutted his chin forward. "Oh, right," she snapped. "_That_ would stop this stubborn argument. Not logic. Not practicality. Not a grim look at reality. No. I simply tell you I don't love you, and you'll leave it be."

"Yes."

She crossed her arms. "No, you wouldn't. You would call me liar and try to prove it. You'd never stop."

He softened to a smile, a hand cupping her cheek. "You're right. I probably would." Then that intensity returned, that cold-burning fire that always shivered Elphaba to the core. "I damn well would, and you know why? Because I love you. Don't bet against a desperate man. There's not much I wouldn't do for you."

"Except the right thing."

"In what twisted, demented world is this the right thing?"

"She's my sister, and you belong to her."

"Am I property now, to be traded about without my consent?"

"You agreed when you arranged to marry her."

"Oh, for Oz sake," he spun away to rake a hand through his hair. "Elphaba, be reasonable."

She stepped back, realizing they would circle this argument until she surrendered, as she always had. Only she couldn't surrender. She'd seen that clearly when Nessa's expression had been burned in her brain. She angled toward the door, ready to run. "If I have to, I'll leave tonight. I'll ask Aruc to make you stay, whatever that takes." She pressed on Fiyero could interrupt. "And he would, if I asked. You know he would. It's over. This has gone far enough."

He stared at her a long time until she built the courage to meet his eyes. He cursed. "Fine." He hauled her to him with a final burning kiss, desperate and aching and full of goodbye. When he released her, he hung his head. "You win. I'll marry her. For you, though. Not for her. Or your damned father. Or our country. Or anything else. I'll marry her if only to torture myself with the shred of you I can keep this way. But I swear to Lurline, you'd better make her understand. If this is the life she chooses, this is the life it is. Miserable and empty and a sham."

"You-"

"Don't you-" He pressed his lips together so hard they turned white. "Don't say another word. I told you what I'll do, and that's it. I will _not_ pretend to love her. I will marry her and do my duty toward her. But she will not be my wife. Just the woman I married. If that's not what she wants, you better tell me to call it off now. That's as far as I will go. Not an inch farther."

Elphaba nodded, quieted by the fury simmering so close to the surface. "Okay." He turned his back with a belligerent grunt. "Fiyero?"

He hung his head, not bothering to glance back. "Yes?"

"For what it's worth, I _am_ sorry. I wish things could be different. They're just…not." He shook his head, not answering, and she took his cue to leave.

For several hours, she wandered the castle, lost in her thoughts and regrets, half-dreading and half-praying that he would find her, convince her somehow that they could manage a way out. As soon as she caught the thought, she shook her head. No. She could do this. Two days. If she could be strong for just two more days, it would all be over.

"What're you doing over here?"

Elphaba spun to face Three with a feral sneer. "What does it matter to you? Fiyero's not with me. You'll have to try to snare him on your own."

Three straightened her spine so that she reached an inch from Elphaba's height and glared. "Why should I expect he would be? As if he would willingly spend time with such a foul-tempered stick when he might enjoy civilized company." Before Elphaba could get in a biting insult back, Three turned her back. "I come to fetch you by order of the queen. Though Lurline in heaven knows why she'd desire such an undesirable presence."

"I'm not in the mood for company."

Three tossed a look over her shoulder, an eyebrow sharply crooked. "You would refuse an order from the queen?" Then she turned back to strut toward the door, confident that Elphaba would follow. "I knew you to be brash and rude, but I hadn't believed you so thoroughly stupid."

She pressed her lips together to summon what shreds of patience she possessed. "Tell her I'm occupied."

"In wandering the halls aimlessly? If you wish."

"What pressing need could she possibly have to see me?" Elphaba's eyes narrowed. "How do I know this isn't such snide little scheme of yours to embarrass me?"

Three's cool, haughty laugh mocked her. "I see you think highly of yourself. Why precisely would you merit even the smallest shred of my attention? And if I did care enough to embarrass you, I'd merely have to wait a moment, and you'd handle it for me yourself."

Elphaba crossed her arms. "You-"

"Oh, good, she found you." Elphaba looked up in surprise to realize Three had baited her all the way to the queen's sitting room without her notice. "Come in, my dear."

Elphaba tensed, and faced Fiyero's mother with an uncertain stare. "You needed me?"

Her less than reverent phrasing drew only the mildest flicker of reaction from the polished monarch, and with a gracious wave, the queen directed her to the room's settee. She sat primly, and Elphaba plopped down with at least an attempt to calm the frustration raging through her. It hid the scowl, but her fingers twitched with redirected energy. If the queen noticed, she didn't comment. "My son tells me that your religion prevents you and your sister from wearing dresses that are the slightest revealing. Is that correct?"

"Not my religion, but Nessa's does." At the woman's hopeful face, Elphaba added a careful, "Though I follow the same dress."

"I see." At a crook from her finger, and a steward materialized with a long lacy gown in his hands. "I believe the bridal gown has enough tailors to verify it, but I'd like to check yours as well. I'd so regret if we caused you any discomfort, however unmeaning."

"Oh. Um, alright." When a sudden spike of worry, Elphaba asked, "I don't have a part this time, do I?"

The queen's eyes softened with a fond expression that must be given with motherhood. "You are a very needed part, dear. I'm sure your sister will rely on you heavily through this anxious time, just as I am sure you will provide her comfort with ease."

"I mean, do I have a speech again?" Might as well be prepared this time.

"As her maid, you would hold her flowers and gentle her spirit as she stands at the altar with my son, but no, you are not obliged to address the assembly. The minister will handle that."

Elphaba sighed with relief. "Alright then."

"Might I impose on your leisure now and ask you to fit your gown?" She nodded, still off-balanced by the queen's smooth civility. "Lovely." The woman gestured to stand, and Elphaba followed the steward around a screen. He pressed the dress in her hands and, with a glare from Elphaba at his stare, retreated back to the shadows he'd grown from.

She fumbled her way past zipper and clasps to squeeze into the delicate bodice. The dress clung like a second skin, accentuating curves that she didn't really have and leaving little to the viewer's imagination despite the neck to toe fabric. She'd never felt so covered and so exposed all at once.

"Does it fit?"

She chewed her lip. "Yes, but…"

"Come out, then. Let me see how lovely you look."

Elphaba stepped out, the lacy skirt rustling in sympathetic motion. "I don't know. It's quite-"

"Mother, I know you wanted-" Fiyero burst in, and stopped short, both verbally and physically, when he caught sight of her. His eyes traced down the tight material as if it weren't even there, and her cheeks flamed. She crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I was unaware you had company. I'll leave you to it."

"No, sit." The queen waved to the seat beside her. "A happy coincidence. You can help redress our dear Miss Elphaba."

He swallowed, the same dirty thoughts echoed in his face that raced through Elphaba's own. Then a flicker of anger from their still smoldering argument darkened his eyes as he forced a charming smile. His eyes locked with her aggressively. "Of course."

His mother patted the cushion, and Fiyero took his place beside her, that knowing smile still burning like a hot poker. "What do you think, son? Spin around, dear, let him see the whole dress." Elphaba jerked in a sharp pirouette with a hard scowl to the prince, which he easily ignored. "Any thoughts?"

"Oh, plenty," he muttered, but if his mother heard, she didn't respond. He studied her for another long moment until hunger faded to sadness. "She should be wearing white."

"Fiyero!" the queen chastised. "Only the bride wears white to a wedding."

"How silly of me," he said, his sarcasm bitter. "You're right."

Elphaba glared at him, unamused by his little game, and the two had a long stare that rehashed old arguments at least as effectively as speaking them had. The queen, however, missed this entire subtext, and stood to circle the unwilling object of their scrutiny. "I see what you mean, though. White would really set off her unique complexion, and that lovely hair. Perhaps a trim?"

"Is it possible to have it let out?" Elphaba avoided Fiyero's eyes as she said it. "It's a bit…um…unseemly." She felt the other woman's frown more than saw it.

"Unseemly? Every inch of skin is covered save your hands and face. Surely you don't suggest we cover those, also."

"It might improve the picture. But I mean it's…" She set a hand on her stomach, unnerved by the clinging lace. "Um…very tight."

"Oh, dear." The queen stood to set a gentle hand on Elphaba's chin. "You mustn't be so hard on yourself. You look beautiful in it, doesn't she, Fiyero?"

He lost the sarcastic look and answered with such sincerity, it unnerved her, "Absolutely exquisite." He turned to his mother. "But she should have whatever makes her comfortable."

The queen pursed her lips minutely in a repressed frown. "We must consider more than comfort…there are the pictures, the press, the fashion editors…" Fiyero lifted an eyebrow, and his mother sighed. "Though with their religion, perhaps we could manage it."

He gave a quick nod and pressed a kiss to his mother's cheek. "I should get back to work before Aruc catches me here."

"Aruc?" Elphaba asked with a frown. What would Aruc have to do with work?

"Seems he's my current warden." He turned back to the queen. "The trellis you wanted was already painted white. Should it be redone?" She'd never considered how much work had gone into the wedding already. That stifling pressure returned, and she felt anew how right she'd been. Fiyero had to marry Nessa. Whether or not either of them wanted to.

The queen waved her hand. "Hang the ivy and repaint the altar to match."

He dipped his head dutifully and started toward the door. As he passed Elphaba, he whispered, "Just say the word." She shook her head, small enough she could hope the queen hadn't noticed. He squeezed her hand. "One word, and it stops."

A knock drew their eyes to the opposite door as Aruc stepped in. "Excuse me, ma'am, but have you seen – holy Oz…" His eyes widened, and Elphaba shifted at the heated look he sent her.

"My son was just on his way back."

Aruc nodded blankly, eyes still caressing the curves manufactured by the clinging dress. Fiyero's fingers trailed over hers lightly in a reluctant goodbye, and he crossed to his dumbstruck friend. "Come on, Aruc. Trust me. It only gets harder the longer you stay."

He gave an unintelligible grunt and nodded. The boys left her alone with the queen, and Elphaba faced the monarch with a reluctant blush lighting her cheeks. "Yes, a white trim would be nice, I think." The next few minutes vanished in a wash of comments in a similar vein, and the queen called a steward to notate the various improvements. At last Elphaba was sent to change back, and she shrugged out of the thin cloth with pleasure. Back in her own clothes, she felt far less unsettled, and she had to admit that despite the intimidation of her position, the queen was not so disagreeable.

She stepped from behind the screen and handed off the slinky dress to the steward. Halfway to the door, the queen called her back, "Miss Elphaba, might I impose another moment on your time?"

With reluctance, she returned to where Fiyero's mother stood, an odd expression on her face.

"Such a lovely girl." The woman tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "I must thank you."

"Me?"

"For giving us a chance. Fiyero told me, before, how hard it was for you to accept your sister's marriage." Elphaba stiffened. "But I've noticed that despite your reservations, you've taken the time to befriend my son, and for that I must sincerely thank you."

"I didn't have much choice in the matter."

The queen chuckled. "I suppose not. My son is quite a persuasive force, I know. But you could have refused him the opportunity, and you did not." Her words, meant to comfort, strummed a chord of guilt through Elphaba. "We are grateful, both of us, that you would give him that chance. I hope you see, now, that we are not so backward as the high society in Oz would lead one to believe."

"That was never a concern to me."

She waved Elphaba off. "And I hope we have convinced you that though it is your sister to be my daughter-in-law, you are a welcome addition to our family as well." Elphaba nodded, a quick jerky moment that did little to hide the impact the queen's words made. It drew a tender look from the monarch. "It must have been so hard for you girls, without your mother."

"We have Nanny," Elphaba bristled, "and each other."

The queen didn't even flinch at the sudden tightness in Elphaba's voice. "Has anyone explained to Nessarose? I would never dream to take your mother's place, but there are certain wisdoms that women share at moments like these."

Elphaba flushed and shook her head, aghast. Anything else, she'd have demanded that they had no need for anyone. Nessa had her, and that's all she needed. But the thought of explaining…_that. _Even the thought of that: her sister and Fiyero. She might vomit.

"I would hate to be presumptuous, but if you wouldn't mind-"

"No, of course." Anything to end this conversation.

With another fond smile, the queen patted her arm. "Good. Well, then…shall we have tea? I'd like to know better the girl dear Master Aruc finds so utterly irresistible." Elphaba cast a longing look to the door, but sat beside her as the stewards crept forward to set down tea. "Tell me about yourself."

Elphaba shifted uncomfortably. This would be a long afternoon.


	24. Vows

Elphaba stretched, a long, languid motion born of boredom and strain. A measly day to go, the castle had turned into a bubble quivering on the point of bursting. Aruc had been tasked with keeping Fiyero on track, and Frexspar occupied Nessa with so many pesky details that Elphaba's only viable company would be Three. She suppressed a shudder. She'd never be that desperate.

So she'd spent the day hidden in books, wandering from room to room in search of a quiet place free from the wedding frenzy whirling through the castle around her. At least all the solitude had granted her some peace, and the torrent of prose had largely drowned the worries pressing on her from her mind. That is, until she dared shut the cover, and it all rushed back. She tossed and turned on her bed as the familiar comfort of the written word did little to ease her troubles at the moment. Perhaps she'd worn out the diversion. After so many straight silent hours, she felt gorged on the written word. She set the book down and stared up at the ceiling. What to do now? Sleep felt hours away still, at least.

An odd, light scratching drew her attention, and she stared at the wall as if she could see into it. What was that? Was she imagining things now, driven mad by the pressures of the last few days? The scratching grew louder, and her face creased in a frown. Not a hallucination, then, but what? Were the stones giving way? Her window faced an inner courtyard, so she doubted any animal would reach it to bother her.

A head appeared at the window, and Elphaba jerked upright. Someone was trying to climb in the window! She scrambled to her feet and toward the window, ready to send the intruder plummeting, when the figure shoved the window in clumsily, and she peered through the shadows to recognize the face. "Fiyero?"

"Help," he grunted as he struggled to haul himself up. He fumbled and slid back an inch with a half-swallowed cry.

She rushed forward to catch his hand, her grip tight around his forearm. "What are you doing here?" she hissed, pulling the foolish prince through her window before he could plummet back to an even less forgiving ground. "Are you insane? You're getting married in the morning!"

"I know." He flopped against her, the cloying smell of whiskey drenching him. "We were 'celebrating'." She shushed him with a worried look at the door, and he snorted. "Celebrating my ultimate misery."

"So you thought drowning your sorrows and climbing in my bedroom would help your situation?" she whispered. "You really are a fool."

"I am." He caught her hand and gazed at her with the desperate earnestness that only the very intoxicated can managed. "I am thoroughly your fool. Damned for you and by you, and in you redeemed."

"You don't make any sense." She shook him off. "You've got to get out of here."

But instead, he fumbled his way to her bed and sprawled across the mattress widthwise. "But I love you."

"Ugh. Not this again. It's late, and we've been through this. Ad nauseam."

He managed an uncoordinated roll onto his side. "I know. And I'm sorry. I can't let go of you. I don't think I ever will."

"You'll have to tomorrow."

His head swiveled in what must have been meant for disagreement. "Nope. Uhuhuhuh." His heavy hand caught hers, and before she swatted him off, he managed to tug her forward. "We'll be happy. Together. We have to be."

"You're crazy."

He beamed, eyes closed. "I have faith in us. We'll end up together." She huffed a skeptical sigh, and he fumbled his way to sitting. At his half-lidded pout, she conceded to take a seat beside him. "We'll get our happy ending. I know it. Wait and see."

"How in Oz can you be sure about something as preposterous as that?"

He shrugged. "You deserve it." His head rolled onto her shoulder. "And even if that makes me miserable now, I want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy."

"That doesn't mean we'll be together."

"We should, though. Because we love each other."

"Oh, for Oz's sake."

His whiskey-loosened lips pressed a warm kiss where they'd fallen against her neck, and she had to resist a rush of warmth at the feel of him, even so intoxicated. "Don't you? Love me?" He peered up at her through long lashes, all liquor-induced insecurity, and she found it hard to push him away.

"I-" A scratching sound came from beyond the wall, and Elphaba tensed. Fiyero couldn't be caught here the night before his wedding. And especially not in her bed, slurring endearments like a lovesick teenager. "Get up," she hissed, but he groaned and flopped back with an answering bounce from the bedsprings.

"I don't want to leave. I'll be good."

"Fiyero, get up! Someone's coming!" Her muted anxiety did little to penetrate the liquor fogging his already limited amount of sense. She caught his face in her hands and called his name until she managed his full attention. "You love me?"

He nodded, wide-eyed.

"How much?"

He clutched her waist. "Oh, Elphaba, so much. So, so much."

"Enough to do what I ask you to?"

"Of course. That's why I'm marrying your sister."

She grimaced, but persevered. "Promise me."

"I promise," his drunken sincerity seeping into the words to give his vow a heartfelt impact. "I'll do anything for you."

"Good." He leaned forward for a kiss, but she hauled him up and dragged him toward the door. But they'd have to pass the window in order to reach it. There wasn't time. She huffed, and shoved him into the wardrobe instead. He groused, but didn't fight her. "Stay here. And for Oz's sake, keep quiet."

She slammed the door shut and dove toward her bed right as a head peeked over the windowsill. "Damned resourceful son of a goat," Aruc grumbled. "Never letting him have alcohol again." He caught a ripped piece of Fiyero's shirt from the splintered wood and tumbled the rest of the way through the opening. "Fiyero, where the hel-lo," the word morphed as Aruc noticed he wasn't alone. "Elphaba. Um, hi. Sorry. I didn't realize this was your room."

He blushed deeply enough that not even the evening's shadows could hide it, and she tossed on a robe. "What are you doing here?"

Aruc ran a hand over his face. "Oh, you don't even want to know. Have you seen Fiyero?"

"Of course not." She tried for a convincing face. "Why would you think that?"

Though his words didn't falter, his attention kept drifting to her modest, but atypical attire. "I'm afraid he was having a little too much fun, and he wandered off Lurline knows where. The stewards said they saw him go this way, so…" Aruc managed to tear his eyes from her robe and flashed a seductive grin. "You know, if I'd known I'd wind up here, I might have been less annoyed with him."

She shifted on her feet, fighting a glance to the wardrobe. "As you can see, he's not here."

He winked. "But you are. Oz, you look beautiful by moonlight. I didn't know any woman could look so gorgeous with such a rude and hasty awakening."

"As tolerant as I've become of you, I've still no inclination to entertain you in the dead of night in my bedroom."

"You make it sound so improper."

"Because it is," she returned as she led him to the door. "Haven't you a prince to go recapture?"

Aruc groaned. "Don't remind me. Where could he have gone?"

"I haven't the foggiest." Elphaba converted her anxiety into a very believable grouchiness. "But I'd like to go back to sleep while you ponder out the answer to that."

"Care for a lullaby?" Aruc grinned, waggling his eyebrows, and she shot him a look of bored annoyance. "Right, right. Going." He bent forward to kiss her cheek. "Sweet dreams, my pretty."

And at that, the closet door opened, and a very red-faced Fiyero tumbled out. "Donchewkisser," he slurred drunkenly, a snarl tilting his lips as he shoved himself forward, and face-first into the foot of the bed.

Elphaba rolled her eyes. She'd been so close. "Um, he must have snuck in while trying to find Nessa. Stupid idiot got the wrong room. I can't believe I slept through it." She avoided Aruc's eyes, hoping that he could believe the terrible lie.

"Notnes," Fiyero started to argue, and Elphaba clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Sh! My father's going to hear you." A far too real concern beyond her desire to keep the inebriated prince from confessing his misguided attraction in front of a witness. She appealed to Aruc with a worried look. "We can't let my father catch him trying to sneak into Nessa's room before the wedding. What if he calls it off?"

Fiyero struggled to force his approval past Elphaba's hand, but Aruc's assumptions converted it into similar anxieties. "Right. Well, we'll just have to get him out of here."

She nodded in agreement. They spent a considerable amount of time getting Fiyero up and maneuverable. Elphaba swore him to silence, threatening to gag him and even grabbing the pillowcase until Aruc snatched it away from her. With the prince's arms slung over their shoulders, the trio shuffled out of her bedroom and through the dark sitting room.

Aruc yelped as his toe connected with a table and sent it scraping against the floor. She shushed him angrily, and he bent to fumble his way around it. "Oz, that hurt."

"Then be careful, you idiot." She couldn't see his face, but she felt safe in saying that his look was not adoration. "Sorry. I don't want my father to wake up."

"Well, if he sleeps like you, then we've got nothing to fear."

"Oh, shut up and get him out of here. If you'd been more responsible with him, he'd never have ended up in my bedroom."

Aruc started to answer, but thought better of it. "Look, let's hold the arguing until we're at least in the hallway."

"Fine."

They edged their way through the darkness greater care, and after what seemed like an eternity, he reached the main door. He fumbled with the doorknob, and Fiyero shifted onto Elphaba. "Does he have to be so heavy?" she grunted as his dead weight lolled against her.

Aruc cracked the door open, and they both squinted in the sudden infusion of still dim light. "Here, give him to me. I'll take him to his room."

She passed the half-conscious boy over with relief, but as soon as she let go, Fiyero stirred. "Elphaba," he mumbled as he struggled to break free from Aruc. For a long moment, she considered shutting the door on the problem and pleading noninvolvement. But she couldn't let Fiyero confess anything to his friend that they might live to regret.

"No, he's too much of a handful for one person, and if he gets loose again, I'll end up with even less sleep."

Aruc bought her excuse eagerly, and they strung the boy back between them. The normally empty hallways seemed teaming with obstacles as the wedding coordinators worked through the night to finalize the ostentatious décor. She led them through an endless marathon of narrow turns and even narrower escapes until they finally made their way to Fiyero's door. "Here it is."

"About time. I thought for sure they'd see us by that damned fountain."

She shrugged, jostling their burden into a groan. "People see what they want to."

"Really?" Aruc grinned, even as he struggled to haul the prince through the door. "Then you must be blindly in love and seconds away from throwing yourself at me."

"Not likely."

"A man can dream." He made a face, as if something had occurred to him. "How did you know how to find Fiyero's room?"

A blush lit her cheeks, and she hid it with a sudden concern for the unconscious prince's boots. "Lucky guess." Aruc didn't answer, and she chose that as a cue to escape. She dumped Fiyero on the bed without fanfare and made it to the door before she turned back, "Aruc?"

He paused in his attempts to haul her friend to a sitting position. "What?"

She took in the sight of Fiyero looking so abandoned, all sorrow and pouty lips, and she sighed. "Keep him here, will you? Sober him up or something." She fought to keep her voice even, "He can't look all pathetic tomorrow. He's getting married." Aruc huffed agreement, and with one last mournful look, she slipped back into the hallway, repeating her last sentence in an endless loop to steel herself for the day to come.

* * *

Elphaba woke the next morning tired, sore and depressed. Anxiety bubbled in her stomach, but she shoved it away. A matter of hours now.

She stumbled eyes-closed into her clothing and out the door in the hopes that her breakfast might be a lonely one. No such luck. Already Fiyero sat at the table, his head propped on his hand as his eggs cooled in front of him. She couldn't help the smile that tilted her lips as she teased, "You look awful." He glanced up.

"Feel it, too."

"One of the many reasons I avoid whiskey." He peered up at her, and she sat beside him with her fruit. "Don't worry, I won't preach at you. Your wife will soon do that enough for us both."

Fiyero scowled. "Wife," he spat it like a curse. "Oz, I can't believe this is happening."

"Now, now. Where's that cheery attitude from last night gone?"

"I see you've spent too much time around Aruc. He loves to taunt me as well."

She pinched his cheek. "Because you're so tauntable."

He shot her a look, but she turned back to her fruit, determined to hold on to the lightheartedness. If they were teasing, they weren't arguing, and she wasn't in danger of losing. He sighed. "Elphaba, can we please-"

"No," she interrupted. "We've talked this to death, and nothing ever changes. You're marrying my sister. You're keeping your promises, and I'm keeping mine." She stood up, no longer hungry. "Just don't do anything stupid."

"Which is it? Because I think deliberately marrying the wrong girl is very stupid."

"And you're the expert, are you?" He shook his head, hurt, and she softened. His miserable expression so contrasted that gentle, trusting face he'd peered up at her with last night, and she had to fight the pull to comfort him. "Trust me. Nessa will be a better wife." She held up a hand to stop his arguments before they could start, "And she's your only option."

"This is wrong."

Elphaba didn't argue. With a final sad smile, she slipped out the door before he could talk her into a final kiss, which of course she'd relent to after a cursory argument until it spiraled out of control in beautiful and sinful ways. No, it was much better this way. She turned the corner, wondering where she could hide to avoid the worst of the bustle, when her father saw her from the other end of the hall. "There you are. Your sister needs help dressing."

"Aren't the stewards there?" He lifted an eyebrow, and she sighed. "On my way."

Nessa would probably welcome the company. She must be a bundle of nerves, considering yesterday's confession. Elphaba would have to find a way to comfort her without upsetting her more. Somehow. She found Nessa in her gown already. "Fabala! I was afraid you weren't coming."

"Course I am. You're my baby sister."

Nessa shot her a look. "Did Father send you here?"

"He might have mentioned that you'd started dressing."

"Caught you hiding, you mean."

"You know me too well."

"We're sisters," Nessa shrugged. "I know you like I know myself." A hot guilty flush spread over Elphaba's neck, and she offered to start the girl's hair more as a distraction than a genuine proposal. "No, no. The stewards are seeing to all that. They went to fetch me some breakfast. The groom mustn't see the bride on the wedding day, after all. It's bad luck."

Especially in this marriage, Elphaba thought darkly. "I thought you didn't believe in luck."

"I don't. But the Unnamed God commands us to honor the traditions of others as an extension of my respect, provided they do not interfere with our own precepts. My faith is not tarnished by a harmless catering to superstition so long as my true dependence is on my prayers."

She flopped her head back as Nessa launched into a preachy diatribe, and when she finished, Elphaba asked, "So you're not nervous, then?"

Nessa colored. "I am. Fiyero didn't make things any easier with his indiscretions. But I believe I am sent here for a reason. He may not have been the man I'd hoped, but perhaps with time, he will be converted."

"Spoken like a true wife. Not even married yet, and trying to change the man." A knock sounded at the door, and when Elphaba opened it, a dozen stewards flooded in, loaded with breakfast and beauty supplies and marshaled by the Queen.

"You look radiant," the Queen beamed at the younger girl. Elphaba made her excuses, not wanting to be there for the talk that was certain to come, but the Queen sent a pair of stewards after her. She tried to dismiss them, but they ignored her. Despite her useless struggles, they painted, primped, powdered and pressed her into a well-coiffed and made-up figure squeezed into a tight, fluffy-skirted dress. Hours drifted away in the useless attempt to make her a passably pretty grass to suit her sister's rosy beauty. It must have taken them more time than expected, and they hustled her through the hallways to the throne room just in time for her entrance.

She felt sick. All the turmoil of the last few weeks, and the moment she'd been dreading was finally upon her. The bravado that had bolstered her all day had abandoned her. Oz, she couldn't do this. But she had to. And so she would.

The room could not hold one more speck of beauty. Flowers and ribbons and beautiful, expensive decorations drowned the eyes in remarkable splendor. From the richness of the fabric draping the seats to the glittery of the crystal chandeliers to the floating melodies charmed from the violins, everything spoke of perfection.

To Elphaba, it might as well be dirt.

It seemed a breath until Nessa would be lost forever, and to who else but the one person she could actually love more. She hadn't thought that even possible.

Fiyero, stunning in his finery, took a weary step toward the altar. Aruc followed and whispered words of encouragement with a hand on his shoulder, and Elphaba felt a quirk of curiosity. Did Aruc have any idea what this moment cost him, or were these words the same generic comfort given to each reluctant bachelor as they conceded their freedom?

She took her place, wrinkling her nose as the loud rustling of her ridiculous dress drew everyone's attention. Fiyero's eyes met hers, startling her in their desperate misery. He didn't look away, and in that long moment, she could almost hear him beg for release from his promise. The bridal chorus sounded, and as the others rose to face the beautiful bride, Fiyero kept his eyes burning into hers. She couldn't look away any more than she could drown in air. If anyone noticed his lack of attention to the ceremony, no one mentioned it.

All too soon, Frexspar had spoken the words to transfer Nessarose to the prince. Fiyero did not move, and Elphaba drug her eyes to her sister's beautiful face, charmed in as much beauty as the room.

A twinge of discomfort trailed through the crowd as the bride stood waiting, unable to go up the steps without aid. Their father had already retreated, and even with Elphaba's plea clear in her face, Fiyero refused to move. He dropped his eyes, guilt and pain etched in every inch of his miserable expression. Nessa's face drew confusion before it turned to hurt – rejection.

Elphaba went to her sister's side, and with a forced smile, brought her sister up the steps to her suitor. The responsibility, it seemed, would fall on her own shoulders. The irony was not lost on her.

Fiyero came forward, stiffly, and accepted his place across from them. Elphaba turned to leave, but Nessa flashed her a frightened look. "Don't!" she hissed. "What if I fall?" The embarrassment flushed Nessa's face an even prettier shade of pink, and Elphaba couldn't believe that anyone would be able to resist her. She nodded and took her post beside her beautiful sister.

With no hands to take, Fiyero was free from that blasphemy at least. She felt his bitterness at having to do this, far more than Elphaba could have imagined, but he held his tongue.

The minister noticed the tension. He cleared his throat, "Yes, well…ladies and gentlemen, your highnesses," he inclined his head toward the pair seated on the thrones, "we are gathered here today…"

The words burned her ears, and she struggled not to listen. It would be over soon enough, and their fates would be sealed. But try as she might, each words blazed past her protections. She held her breath for an interruption, a deus ex machina that would deliver them as it had so many times in the books she read, but none came. No dramatic rescue. No trumpet call to sanity. Nothing.

The fiery torment escalated until the dreaded moment that called for their response. "Do you, Nessarose Thropp, fourth Thropp Descending, take Fiyero Tiggular, crown prince of the kingdom of Vinkus, knight of the royal order of the Blue Diamonds, and protector of the state of Vinkus, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, forsaking all others as long as you both shall live?"

Her sweet voice didn't hesitate at the words, "I do."

Elphaba carefully controlled her expression. The minister turned to Fiyero, and he balked at the words, "Do you, Prince Fiyero Tiggular, lord of the noble…" at Fiyero's glare, he shortened the introduction, "um, yes, take Nessarose Thropp to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, forsaking all others as long," they both winced, "as you both shall live?"

Fiyero frowned and lifted his face toward the ceiling. Elphaba felt for an awful moment that he wouldn't keep his promise – couldn't. He drew a deep breath, reluctance clear on his face. Elphaba fought a gasp as his eyes found hers, startled by their intensity. "I…" he stopped, choosing his words, "swear my undying love to Miss Thropp," his eyes must have scorched Elphaba's skin outwardly by now, "beyond forever and deeper than eternity."

"So…you do?"

He sighed. "Yes, I take her as my wife."

His creative use of language was not lost on her.


	25. Night

Elphaba floated through the rest of the motions with dull eyes and numb fingers. Had this really happened? Had she really watched Fiyero marry her sister? At her request. No, she corrected herself harshly, at her repeated demands. Her stomach churned, vomit rising in her throat.

She shut off her thoughts and concentrated on the simple tasks she could manage. Take a breath. Good, now another. Her feet shuffled forward, and she brooded her way through each picture assigned. And so on, and so on, into infinity.

Aruc found her, and his happy chatter washed over her without indenting the bubbled that kept her walled from reality. The scenery passed around her as he led her to a long head table in the front of the banquet hall. She plopped in the chair he offered without argument. A veritable army of stewards delivered course after course, the feast fit for a royal wedding. She clasped her fork in her numbed fingers, and though she stared at the utensil, it did not convey the food to her mouth. Not that she'd have been able to eat it. She picked at the varied delicacies, spreading the shreds around her plate.

Around her, people celebrated with the frenetic frivolity that a great wedding could inspire, unaware of its true tragedy. They sickened her. She could see now why Fiyero had felt the need to be staggering drunk the night before. Aruc tilted his head at the odd expression on her face. "Are you alright? You look a little pale."

"I'm fine," she managed, and Aruc caught her hand in his.

"Your fingers are like ice. Are you sure you're not feeling ill again?"

The concern etched in Aruc's face annoyed her, and she snapped, "I said I'm fine. Must you pester me until you make me sick yourself?"

Her outburst drew Fiyero's eyes. Against her will, she glanced up, and the ocean of sorrow and regret there threatened to drown her. The air abandoned her lungs, and she suffocated silently until his eyes dropped to his hands. She drew a shaky breath and focused on the napkin in her lap, turning it over and over again in her lap.

"A toast," the king began, "to the bride and groom." His deep voice intoned a phrase that in Vinkan, swirling the foreign syllables into a smooth melody. Then he turned to the bride and repeated the words in their language. "May your future be as bright as the morning sun, and your sorrow but fleeting shadows dispelled by the light of day."

Frexspar stood beside him, far less imposing than the tall, powerful man. "The grace of the Unnamed God fall upon this union so that your joining might be a blessing to you and all you come in contact with."

Aruc took his turn, and he flashed a wink. Elphaba tensed in preparation for a crude blessing. "A toast to love and laughter, and happily ever after." He raised his glass, and the others drank. The king actually smiled at Aruc, impressed with his maturity, until the boy added. "And may your only ups and downs be in the bedroom."

Her father coughed on his drink, and Nessa blushed a deep shade of red. The queen tittered behind her napkin, enchanted by the handsome boy despite his impropriety. With a censuring look, the king motioned for Aruc to sit. He gestured to the hall full of guests, "We welcome your witness to this most cherished union." Fiyero scoffed, but he managed to hide it in a cough. He bowed stiffly to Nessa, and then helped her to stand.

Nessa avoided his eyes, her face sullen, and Fiyero led her to the dance floor inch by painful inch. Could everyone see their unhappiness? It seemed so obvious to her despite the blank faces both held. They reached the center, and Fiyero took his bride into his arms. Elphaba knew from last time that he would not allow her little sister to embarrass herself, but she still held her breath as the pair stumbled in their awkward waltz.

They didn't speak. No smile to lighten the pressure. No sweet blush lit Nessa's cheeks. They whirled over the floor in a beautiful, if unsteady dance, but it felt cold, stiff. Like figures carved in ice. Nessa's eyes flashed with repressed resentment, and Fiyero seemed drenched in sorrow, too weighted to spin them through so happy a dance. Her heart ached to see the two people she cared most for in the world so despondent. The wedding dance drug on like a funeral dirge, though it only lasted a couple minutes. When the song ended, Nessa stepped away from Fiyero at once. If anyone else noticed their reticence, they ignored it, and the crowd erupted in boisterous applause.

"Shall we?" Aruc helped Elphaba stand, and she trailed after him to meet the wedded couple by the edge of the floor. Nessa accepted his congratulations with a thin-stretched smile while Fiyero stared mutely at the ground. The quartet strummed with tension.

Nessa excused herself when their father approached, and Frexspar beamed with praise for his favorite child. Only then did her smile seem genuine.

"I know better than to ask if you're free to dance," Aruc teased with a nudge to Elphaba's elbow. "No doubt Fiyero will have you monopolized until midnight."

His joke fell flat as Fiyero kept his eyes lowered. "She's all yours. I don't much feel like dancing."

"What?" Aruc mimed horror. "Looks like whatever you had earlier is catching, Elphaba. In all our years together, I've never, ever known him to turn down dancing."

Her eyes widened with a sudden fear that Aruc would piece together their aberrant behavior to know that all was not as it appeared. She couldn't let that happen. With a surge of optimism that felt forced, she pasted on an insincere grin. "He's just being polite to his fian-wife," she corrected herself, and a flicker of pain darted over Fiyero's features. "Once we start, I'm sure he won't stop until my feet fall off. You'll-"

"Go with Nessa? Of course. Though I expect a least one dance later." He kissed her hand, then her cheek with a roguish grin, and slipped off the floor to find the bride.

She turned to Fiyero, to find him studying her with a combination of desire and reluctance. "Aren't we going to dance?" Elphaba asked, her voice too high, too bright. "We look pretty silly just staring at each other."

Without a word, Fiyero stepped forward and slipped his arms around her. He took her hand in his, and she felt the added weight of his wedding ring, smooth and cool against her palm. She found herself mesmerized by it, by all it represented. "Elphaba-"

"Let's not talk," she blurted out. "I can't think of anything either of us could say that would make the other feel any better."

He sighed. "You're probably right." His grip tightened, and she moved closer. "At least I get to dance with my love on my wedding day," he murmured under his breath. "More than I'd expected."

She didn't respond. What could she say? After all, she'd done this to him.

They shuffled together for a couple songs before Fiyero dropped her hand. "I can't do this. It feels like a lie. And everyone's watching, and I-"

She caught his cheek in her fingertips, and he sputtered to a halt with a shocked expression. "Come with me." The hope that sparked in his eyes lit each of her nerve endings from their numbness like a limb reawakening. She pulled him after her before any of the Three's out there could declare him unoccupied. Luckily, she remembered that first tour well, and after a couple turns and through the wide, gold-trimmed double doors, she came to a stop in the middle of the salon. He shot her a quizzical look, and she blushed. "I remembered you saying that you preferred to dance here. Without an audience."

The pure, unfiltered adoration that beamed out of him took her breath. "You…" He swallowed. "Yes. I do."

With no pretense, he didn't bother to keep a polite distance as he wrapped her in his arms and pressed his face into her hair. He drew a long breath. "I love you," he whispered, and without waiting for her reply, he whirled them into a delicate, beautiful dance that overflowed with tenderness, as if his body could express what his words were not allowed to. That thought sparked another, and she blushed at other ways he might manage the same. Ways that now belonged to her sister.

She pulled back enough to face him. "Fiyero-"

"Sh," his voice hushed and throaty. "Let us have this. We can't have much, but we can have this, at least. Can't we?"

She looked up at the desperate plea in his eyes, and she softened. What harm could come from a dance, innocent considering all they'd done already? "Yes, we can."

He caught her face in his hands, and with an aching tenderness, kissed the corner of her lips. "Thank you," he whispered. And then he spun them back into a dance that made Elphaba's heart beat in triple time.

The silence between them reverberated with unspoken words and forbidden desires. Though their actions stayed innocent, the subtext left her muscles weak and shaky. Each delicate touch of his hand, the light trails of his fingers, the occasional pressure of his chest against her back, all assaulted her sense of reason until the world vanished around them. She couldn't catch her breath. Her eyes fell half-closed. She imprinted the feel of him, warm and so light it lent an intangible, dreamlike quality to his caress that made her feel surrounded by him. A whisper in silence, he trailed his fingertips over her arms, shoulder, neck.

The need for him was staggering. She melted into him, and time flooded by in this beautiful torturous dream. So perfect in its temptation. Hours past as she lost herself in the feeling. He let their fingers slide together in an ungoverned exploration, and the tingles rippled in a shockwave through her at the innocent, intimate touch. He drew a steadying breath, and she tilted her head back in unspoken symmetry. He wanted her, too. She knew it. Felt it in the way his hand clutched at her, the way his heart pounded under her hand, and his desire heightened her own until logic threatened to fail her. She wanted him so very badly. His lips dipped toward hers as if the sheer force of her need compelled them.

Aruc burst into the salon, startling the pair apart. "There you are. I looked everywhere for you two. Hiding out?" Elphaba's eyes widened, and Fiyero dropped his hands as if he were a teenager caught groping in the back pew of the church. "I saw Three on the prowl with her fledglings. Figured you retreated for your own safety."

Fiyero palmed the back of his neck. "Yep."

Aruc grinned in assumed collusion. "Well, she's cleared out now. In fact, the women came to get Nessa ready for," he winked, "the best part of a wedding. Not to mention unmentionables in the presence of a lady, of course."

"Why should now be any different? At least it's not me you're portraying." Both boys blushed at that, and she flushed in return as she figured out that she'd just set that picture in both their heads. "Regardless, we should be going."

"Shall I escort you back?"

"I'll escort her," Fiyero intervened. "Lest you assault her with more of your crude humor."

Aruc looked crestfallen. "But you've been with her all night. And you've got a pretty wife waiting for you. I'm sure you'll want to hurry to her."

"Or I can walk myself. I believe I know where my room is after this long." Both boys started to argue, but Elphaba held up a hand. "It's late. I'm tired. I'm not in the mood for quarreling."

They stepped back, and she slipped past them to the hall. The debris from the reception littered the large room. She picked her way through it and around the final few guests who lounged across the doorway in their drunken glee, their champagne glasses tilting dangerously. The dancing had drained Elphaba more than just physically, and she lost herself in the rhythm of her steps to distract herself from her dark thoughts. The delicate shoes clicked against the polished floor. Every third step she took a breath in. Every sixth step she let her breath out. Repeated again and again until she'd reached her door.

She pushed it to open, but the door stuck in the jamb. Frustrated with yet another disaster that day, she tugged at it, hard and angry. It held firm, no matter how she yanked at it, and she slammed a frustrated hand against the solid oak door.

"Allow me."

She jumped and spun around to find Fiyero a couple paces behind her. "What are you doing? Following me?"

"If I say yes?"

She crossed her arms as he set to work on the door, shouldering it open. "You're incorrigible. Are you that convinced that I need a bodyguard? What harm could I possibly find crossing a guarded castle?"

His lips quirked in the first smile she'd seen on him all evening. "I can think of plenty."

"That's because you share Aruc's dirty thoughts, then."

"Oh, I do." He stepped closer, and the air fizzled with the electricity that charged between them. "For you, I have all sorts of thoughts."

She slipped past him and into the sitting room. "Quite the honorable prince, I see. And on your wedding day, no less."

His eyes flashed as he hissed, "A pathetic mockery of one, and you know it."

She swallowed and studied her hands as they folded her shawl. "Haven't you more pressing plans?"

"What?"

"I mean Nessa. Isn't she waiting for you?"

His eyes widened, and then his expression hardened to stone. "No."

She pursed her lips. "Fiyero, you have obligations."

"Are you honestly going to ask me to debase us all like that?" A deep hurt radiated from him, and he pressed his eyes closed. "This is too far."

"Isn't that why you had to marry? To," she swallowed, "produce an heir." She couldn't bear to look at him, but she pressed on. "You should go to her."

"No," his face a rigid mask of pain. "I won't do that. Not even for you."

"It's your wedding night," she murmured, praying and dreading that he could be convinced. "Nessa-"

"Knew exactly what it meant to have a loveless marriage. Isn't it enough that I married her for you? That I traded forever for her." He drew a ragged breath. "I won't. And that's final."

She smoothed her hands from his shoulders to his chest. "But you could," she suggested, shy, but she couldn't go on. "One night."

"And what, think of you the whole time?" She blushed. Would he? Did she want him to? He forced her eyes to meet his. "It's no substitute."

"But we can't ever…"

"I know," he hung his head. "But I can't do it, Elphaba. Please, I beg you, don't ask me to. Ask me anything, anything, but that. Ask me to rip out my heart. It's yours. Ask me to throw myself off a mountain, and I'll leave the next instant. But don't tell me I have to love anyone but you. I can't even fathom it. And don't ask me to sell my soul so cheaply unless the one night is with you."

She couldn't speak at the intensity of his reaction, so she settled for a meek nod.

"No," he restated, calmed by her surrender. "I refuse to spend my wedding night with anyone but the one I really spoke my vows to."

She frowned. "But…"

"Yes, Miss Thropp," he teased, edging them a step back toward the bed.

"My sister," she swallowed at the words, "your wife…"

"In name only. My heart is yours."

"But you are not." She pushed him back. "You should go."

He brushed her jaw with his fingertips, sadness rolling through his eyes in an endless wave. "You want me to?" She should tell him yes. He would go if she asked. Really asked.

But she'd already asked so much. And he'd given her everything she'd asked, no matter the cost to him. She couldn't form the lie, so she settled for a truth. "We can't…"

"Can't what?" His lips were too close. "I can't marry you. I can't tell you I love you. Can't kiss you?"

She shook her head, though her lips inched closer.

"Can't want you?"

Closer still.

"Can't take you in my arms and show you how desperately I need you?" He sighed, letting her go. "I know. But surely I can be in the same room as you."

"We shouldn't."

"It's not so improper, is it? I'll stay on the floor." He took her pillow as he spoke, arranging it on the floor beside her bed. "I can't be without you tonight. Please? I'll beg if I must." She could help the half-smile, and, encouraged, he bent down on one knee. "Shall I grovel? Elphaba, I beseech thee… "

"Oh, get up." She laughed at him against her own best judgment. "You're ridiculous."

"Have I persuaded you? Can I stay?"

How could she refuse, after all she'd required of him already that day? She nodded, and laid down fully-clothed on her bed. "The light?" Would it draw attention? Would turning it off seal their fate? Would it cross whatever propriety they might still could claim?

"I suppose I can survive not seeing you for a few moments." He stood to turn the dim light off, and opened the window to the full moon. "But not long." His eyes caught her breath as he drew them over her in the dark. After a moment, he returned to his place on the floor.

She tossed and turned for a bit. "I can't sleep like this."

"Shall I come up there and help you?"

"Fiyero-" she warned, but he laughed.

"Alright, then. Would you like to hear a bedtime story?"

"I'm somewhat afraid to."

She rolled onto the edge of the bed to peer down at him, and he propped himself up on one elbow. "Have you heard of Orpheus?"

She shook her head.

"In the days of Lurline when the gods walked the earth, it was said that music lived as a being, dwelling in the hearts of the pure. And none could rival the talent of Orpheus." He stroked the back of her hand idly as he spoke. "He charmed the rivers and bewitched the mountains. None could resist him, least of all the fair Eurydice. He fell desperately in love with her." At this, Fiyero paused to kiss her hand tenderly. "So beautiful and so loved, Eurydice drew the jealousy of the heavens. On the day she was wedded to Orpheus, a serpent slithered amongst her gown and bit her, and Eurydice died."

"Orpheus wept inconsolably at her loss, and begged the gods for her return. His lament was so heart-breaking, it is said Lurline wept the Great Sea. She brought him to the gates of the Dead, where Orpheus charmed the gatekeeper into entry. Past many dangers, fearsome monsters, impossible tests, obstacles and trials he made his way toward his love, never deflected and never surrendering.

"At last he reached the King of the Dead, and with all his heart, pleaded for his wife's return. His melody charmed all the beasts until they howled in echo of his pain. The king allowed Orpheus to rescue his bride, but declared if he caught sight of her before they reached the land of the living, she would return to the underworld forever. So with his eyes firmly shut, Orpheus was reunited with his lost love, and they began their long ascent toward the living. The way was dark, and though Orpheus offered vows of love, Eurydice remained silent.

"Her silence drew his doubts. Perhaps this was a test. Perhaps he was supposed to realize the deceit. He contrived to stumble and surprise a voice from his follower, but when Eurydice cried out, he feared he had caused her genuine harm. He turned to help, but as his eyes fell on her, she shimmered from view, her hand slipping from his frantic grasp. Orpheus hurled himself after his love down the treacherous slope to the underworld. But Lurline could not bear to lose the beauty of his music, and she brought him safely to the land of the living.

"Distraught, Orpheus begged for another chance, but to no avail. Years passed in desperate longing. Finally, he returned to the altar of his ruined marriage and on that hillside composed his final lament. With his final breath, he rejoiced to be reunited with his beloved Eurydice, and through the shadows of melody and harmony, they walk together still and for all eternity."

For a moment it was silent, both lost in the mournful story and Fiyero's melodic voice. Elphaba sighed, "How sad."

"I would come to the underworld for you," he promised.

"I'd rather you didn't. Poor Orpheus."

"And yet, he still had a happier wedding than I," Fiyero entwined their fingers. "At least he married his love."

Guilt surged through her. "I'm sorry," her voice a pained whisper.

"But I am definitely having the better wedding night." He kissed her hand again, and she tugged their hands up to echo the gesture. He followed the motion, sitting up, and she recklessly pulled him up to lie beside her. He raised his eyebrows and smiled. "Yes, definitely better. Much, much better."

"Oh, hush." She blushed at his enthusiasm.

"Don't worry." He wrapped an arm around her. "I promise to be a gentleman. Unless you don't want me to…"

She squeezed his hand. "Goodnight, Fiyero."

"Goodnight, my love."


	26. Morning

Warmth. Sweet, beautiful, delicious warmth. Elphaba shut her eyes tighter against the dawning light and burrowed into the warmth beside her. A low chuckle vibrated through the sheets, and a warm hand tangled through her wild hair. "I'd never have pegged you as a cuddler," Fiyero said, his voice husky from sleep. Her eyes popped open, and she vaulted away from him with a start. Before she could get any distance, he'd hauled her back, tangling their legs together. "Not that I'm complaining. Merely an observation."

"Get out of my bed." Fiyero lifted an eyebrow, but Elphaba shoved off his chest and scrambled to freedom. "Quick. Before they catch you here."

He eyed her a moment, his disappointment carefully muted, and rose languidly from the bed. "Shuffling me out of my own castle? A man could feel a bit dismissed."

She leveled an unamused look. "Yes, because it would be so simple to explain why I have my sister's brand new husband in my bed on the dawn after his wedding night."

"When you put it that way," Fiyero smirked as he stalked toward her, "it sounds so scandalous. Shall we put that to good use?"

"Out."

She pushed him toward the door, but he caught her against him to tangle a hand firmly in her hair. All honey and sin, he cooed, "You know, you look so enticing straight out of bed."

"Yes, I'm sure bed-hair is extremely alluring."

"Oh, it is," he dismissed her sarcasm with his own intensity as he brushed his nose across her cheek to whisper in her ear, "It compels thoughts of how it became tangled. Or might yet."

She blushed at the image he'd painted for her. "Goodbye, Fiyero."

"Wouldn't you rather I stay and help you untangle it?"

"Out."

He released her with a heavy sigh. "Don't pretend you're not tempted."

Her expression softened. "Perhaps." She pressed a hand to his chest, backing him to the door. "But resolved." He grinned widely at her admission, and she rolled her eyes even as her smile betrayed her. "Go. Before you wake the whole castle."

He slipped through her door, her hand clasped in his, and they tiptoed through the empty sitting room. He swung their hands, so much lighter than the heavy-hearted boy from yesterday that she couldn't resist sharing the broad smile that stole across his face. They made it to the outer door before he broke the silence. "You know," he brought their joined hands to his chest above his heart, "I fear you may have addicted me." She lifted an eyebrow. "Waking up with you."

"Don't be ridiculous. You've a wife to think of."

"She isn't who I think of."

"She should be. Go on. Before you talk me into something else terrible."

"Why? Is it working?"

"No," she hissed. "Oz, you're insufferable."

"But you love me for it."

"Do I, now?"

"Don't you?" She flashed an enigmatic smile, and he half-growled at her. "You little minx. Are you trying to tempt me?"

"Don't be ridiculous." She grinned. "I don't have to _try_."

He shook his head at her in mock disapproval and bent toward her. "Well, that is certainly true."

"Prince Fiyero?"

They spun to face a blinking Frexspar rubbing his eyes. Elphaba's face drained of color, and she rocketed away from Fiyero with the shred of decency she might claim. Oh, Oz. Please let him not have seen anything. How would they explain this? What possible explanation could they have?

"What are you doing here?"

Fiyero's wide eyes met hers for a moment before he regained his composure. "I came to deliver Miss Elphaba's necklace. She must have dropped it yesterday, and I didn't want her to worry." Her head jerked to face him, impressed, and he shot her a warning look.

"Very generous of you, young man. But surely you have other concerns this morning. I'm surprised to see you up so early."

Fiyero shrugged. "Well, what's that saying – early to bed, early to rise? Is not steady occupation the cure to mischief?"

"Ah. I prefer the scriptures of course: A lazy man is an abomination. Though I doubt any would fault you today."

The prince's forced smile made Elphaba want to laugh, but the worry that her father would recognize Fiyero still wore his wedding clothes overwhelmed any thought but how to get him out of there. "Yes, well, you've delivered the necklace, for which I am so grateful."

"Are you?" Fiyero leered, and she scowled at him in warning.

"But I'm sure you've more pressing business to see to, yes?"

His eyes caressed her lips enough to heat her cheeks. "Pressing? Yes, I believe so."

"So you'd best be going." She nodded toward the open door with a stern glare.

"Yes, of course." Fiyero bowed to her father and chastely kissed her hand. "A lovely day to you both."

"And to you," Frexspar offered as Elphaba shut the door in Fiyero's face. "As for you," Frex snarled, the sudden change in mood more than a little disorienting, "what is the matter with you? Answering the door in your nightgown? For a married man no less. Are you determined to act like a harlot at every opportunity?"

Elphaba gaped at him, too angry to reply. She shook her head and stormed to her room, slamming the door. And then her eyes fell on the bed, ruffled from the extra person it had held. She sighed.

What _was_ the matter with her?

* * *

"There she is," Aruc beamed as Elphaba walked in, breakfast already set before them. "My personal angel, come to deliver me."

"I don't recall any such mission."

"Nonsense, I begged for deliverance, and here you are. Please, save me from another dissection of yesterday's ceremony."

Three pursed her lips, clearly displeased with Aruc's histrionics. "Since when do you refuse gossip?"

"Me gossip?" Aruc held a hand to his chest, an overdramatic act for Elphaba's behalf. "I'll not abide these scandalous lies." He draped an arm along the back of her chair. "I'm far too noble for that. Unless you'd prefer it."

"Where are the others?"

Three eyed her with a condescending stare. "In bed, no doubt. I'd be surprised if we see either today. This _is _their honeymoon."

"Care to follow their example?" Aruc winked, and Elphaba glared.

"Care to lose your tongue?"

He leaned closer. "That depends how."

Her most murderous glare. "Permanently."

"Mm, I love a girl who commits."

Three set down her fork with a clatter. "Please, try to contain yourselves. I'm attempting to eat my breakfast here."

Shuffling footsteps caught their attention, and Elphaba looked up to see her sister in the doorway. "Nessa!" She jumped to her feet to replace the steward supporting her. "You're up."

Nessa nodded, eyes on the ground. "Did I miss breakfast?"

"We just started. Here," Elphaba helped her sit and gathered a plate of fruit. "Anything else?" Her sister shook her head, and Elphaba began trimming the fruit into bites.

"Where's Fiyero?" Three asked, one hand already smoothing her hair in preparation.

"Asleep," Nessa lied softly, and Elphaba pulled back to search her face for a reaction. The girl's eyes were puffy, as she'd obviously spent the night crying, but they were dry now. Who had wiped them? The steward? Fiyero had clearly not been to see his bride, and she felt a sting of guilt that she knew exactly why.

"So how does it feel to be an old married woman?" Aruc teased, oblivious to Nessa's ordeal. "You look exhausted."

"I feel exhausted. The wedding took more energy yesterday than I'd imagined."

Three's cold voice cooed, "Yes, I'm sure the wedding is what's worn you out. Last night bore no part in it."

Aruc's laugh boomed. "Did Fiyero make me proud, then? You know, I taught him everything he knows in that department."

"Did you now?" Three lifted an eyebrow. "How…unusual."

"Oh, that's not what I meant, and you know it. I prefer women." Aruc's arm found its way around Elphaba again as he grinned down at her. "Very much so." He held a hand up to stop Three. "Exclusively."

"Thank goodness," Elphaba sighed sarcastically. "Now we can all sleep at night."

"Burdened with extraordinary talent as I am, I find I am honor-bound to share my knowledge with others. For the good of mankind." He leaned closer. "Or I suppose more accurately, womankind."

"I see you've no lack of arrogance."

"Well deserved. Shall I prove it?"

"Not if you'd like to keep all your body parts."

"This is certainly an improper conversation for breakfast." Nessa pursed her lips. "In fact, too lewd a subject for any polite conversation."

"Says the only one of us to have committed said act last night." Three tilted her head cattily. "What's the matter, did you not realize marriage meant your deflowering?" Elphaba shot her a warning glare, and the other girl rolled her eyes. "Yes, because I'm the one at fault for speaking the truth. Isn't that what she's always proclaiming?"

"The truth of our spiritual fulfillment," Nessa said, "not these base, disgusting comments about matters better left behind closed doors."

Three adopted what might have passed for a sincere sympathy if she weren't such a conniving creature. "It must have been so hard for you, without a mother. Did no one explain to you?"

"You miserable piece of-"

Elphaba flew out of her seat, but Aruc caught her, clapping a hand to her mouth. "Well, this went sour fast. I think we'd better take a walk."

"Sorry," Three widened her eyes to approximate innocence. "I mean, she's clearly been crying. I didn't mean to be harsh. I-"

"Then don't speak of things which don't concern you," Nessa snapped. She struggled to stand, and Elphaba pushed free of Aruc to help her. "And I'd thank you to think of who you're speaking to so rudely. Prince Fiyero is my husband now, in case you don't remember."

"Yes, of course," Three held up her hands in mock surrender. "I meant no harm, really."

"Do you honestly expect either of us to believe you?" Elphaba hissed. She itched to punch Three's snide little face, but Nessa caught her attention, asking help to leave. She led her sister out, waving Aruc off.

They slipped through archway Fiyero had showed them their first week here and into the western gardens that Nessa so preferred. "He didn't," Nessa confessed softly. "Any of it."

"What do you mean?" Elphaba didn't delude herself that her stall was any less of a lie, but what else could she say?

"Fiyero." Nessa sat at a bench by the broad lilies. "I haven't seen him since the wedding. He spent the night with someone else. Our wedding night," she spat out bitterly. "My husband can't be bothered to jump out of his lover's bed long enough to consummate our marriage."

"But - would you want him to? I mean, considering."

She sighed. "He's still my husband."

"Yes." Elphaba studied the ground. "I suppose he is."

"I saw him on the way to breakfast. He went the other way. He's deliberately avoiding me. The confrontation, I'd guess. He's made it clear he'll carry on however he pleases."

Elphaba tucked a hair behind Nessa's ear. "I'm so sorry, Nessa."

"Why? It's not as if it's your fault."

Elphaba's cheeks might catch fire. "I hate to see you so upset."

"I know, Fabala." Nessa leaned her head on her sister's shoulder. "At least I can always count on you."

* * *

"You're making it worse," Elphaba accused as she pushed Fiyero out of the hall. It had taken her an hour to find him, ducking between corridors in the east wing. "She's even more miserable than before."

He leaned his head against the wall, misery weighting him until the carefree smile from this morning seemed like a foreign impossibility. "Oz, woman. What more must I do? I've married her, haven't I? I was honest, wasn't I? I told her what she would be getting. Don't blame me if that's what she got."

"She feels neglected. Unwanted."

"She is!" Fiyero caught Elphaba face between his palms. His intensity surprised her, desperation lining his words, "You are the one I want. You. Only you. Ever."

She ducked her eyes. "Can you at least stop avoiding her?"

He dropped his hands and took a step back. "Why, so she can yell at me for abandoning her on the worst night of my life? So she can try to bully me into bed? No thanks."

"Why are you being so cold?"

Fiyero's laugh was harsh. "Me? Can't think of a reason."

"She was alone. Helpless. What if she needed something? Who would help her?"

A flicker of regret ghosted over his face, proof that despite his anger, he still cared. But his words were callous, "You share her bed. Then I'd be there in a heartbeat."

She shoved his shoulder. "Stop being a cad."

"Stop pushing me off on your sister."

"Your wife," she restated firmly, and he glared at her.

"Well, whose fault is that?"

She drew a weary breath. "This is all so wrong. It was supposed to make everything better, when you married her. Now everything is so much worse."

He shook his head. "You really thought it would be better? How could it? How could it help anyone that I'm desperately in love with the sister of my wife?"

"Fiyero, she needs you."

He shut his eyes. "I suppose that's true enough." The burden weighed visibly on him, one that she knew all too well. She'd found the right tactic, she knew, and despite the weary way he shook his head, she was certain he wouldn't chance any real harm to her sister. She felt her own regret burning on her face. Regret that she'd exploited him yet again. Regret that he so clearly struggled with the burden she'd forced on him. But what could she do? How could she let her sister suffer?

"Please, stop avoiding her." He slumped and nodded. She drew an unsteady breath, "And maybe tonight you could-"

His eyes popped open, jaw set. "No."

"I just mean, not that, but." She swallowed. "Just sharing. Not…anything else."

"No."

His abrupt dismissal exasperated her, and she snapped back, "Well, don't plan on sleeping in my room again. You might as well stay with her."

He caught her chin and tilted her eyes to meet his. The pain there tore at her heart. "Listen to me carefully. I will not now, or ever, sleep with your sister. In any way. In any sense. For any reason. No exceptions. No compromises. No barters. Never. Don't pursue this. Don't."

"But-" She abandoned it at the stern look in his eyes. "Okay."

He drew a heavy breath. "But I will stop avoiding her."

"Thank you," she whispered, half-afraid he'd change his mind.

"I'll make arrangements for her to have help available. So long as we're clear that help will not be me." He ran a hand through his hair. "I did promise to take care of her, whatever my feelings on the matter."

She nodded. He sighed and pressed his forehead to hers. "The things I do for you."

"For your wife," she reminded softly.

"Not even a little."

He pressed a lingering kiss where his forehead had been. She let the silence reign for a moment before the curiosity overwhelmed the worry. "Where will you sleep, then?"

"This is a large castle. I'm sure I'll find an empty bed."

"So long as it's empty."

His lips twitched in a smile for the first time since this morning. "Jealous?"

"For my sister's sake."

He sighed. "Yes, of course. Your sister's sake." He twined their fingers together. "So when is our next lesson?"

Elphaba pulled back. "What do you mean?"

"Our lesson. Surely you haven't forgotten them so quickly. I can never seem to stop thinking of them."

She wrapped an arm over her chest. "Well, there's nothing to discuss now, so…"

"What do you mean?" Fiyero dropped her hand, his gaze dark. "How is there nothing to discuss?"

"You can ask Nessa directly. Assuming you'll ever be in the same room as her."

He narrowed his eyes. "So no lessons."

She turned to face the window more to hide from him than to study the scenery. "What could I show you? It's not as if I could demonstrate how to dress her or bathe her or any of the like."

He slipped his arms around her waist, his lips gliding over the nape of her neck. "I think I'd enjoy those lessons very much."

"Don't be uncouth."

"Shan't I?" He buried his nose in her hair, nuzzling her neck. "I have no feelings toward propriety at the moment."

"I've noticed."

"Mm, have you?"

She spun away from him. "Fiyero, stop. This is precisely why we can't continue the lessons."

"Why?" He shook his head. She shot him a stern look, and his jaw tightened. "I can behave, you know."

"Can you?"

He huffed. "If you'd ever ask me to. Beyond reminding me how we can't – quite unnecessarily I might add. Trust me, that fact never for a second escapes me. I am brutally, constantly, endlessly reminded."

"Are you? You don't seem like it."

His eyes blazed. "You're one to talk. If you are so very displeased with my affection, be less alluring."

"Alluring? Now you've gone mad as well."

He leaned close, "Don't pretend you don't know exactly what you do to me."

"And what is that?"

He grabbed her chin, lips descending too quickly for her rational mind to convince her why she shouldn't let those devastatingly delicious lips kiss her. An inch away, he resisted, his breath coming fast and hard against her longing lips. "See. You tempt and tease and drive me to distraction. Oz, you're all I think about. I want you so badly, I fear I'll drive myself mad." His fingers twitched against her jaw, and she leaned halfway across the inch separating them before she caught herself.

"I don't mean to."

"Don't you?"

She shook her head minutely. This conversation had spun most definitely off course.

"Aruc is right. You are a siren. Beautiful and deadly and utterly irresistible." His lips tipped forward the rest of the distance, but she slipped back.

"Fiyero…"

He hung his head. "Please, allow me. 'We can't.'"

"Well, it's true."

"But surely we can still manage lessons. Surely we don't have to abandon the only solace I still take in this miserable excuse of a life."

She tried to convey her sympathy in her face. "You know we shouldn't."

He studied the ceiling. "Because of your sister."

"Your wife."

He balled his hand into a fist. "Yes, my wife. My wife that I didn't want. My wife that you-" He forced his hand into his hair instead. "Fine. No, fine. Only utter civility, on my honor. What then?"

Her face softened. "Fiyero, we can't…" He backed away, shaking his head. Frustrated, the misery on his face tore at her. "Fiyero, be reasonable. It's not a good idea."

He nodded, slow and pained, and turned on his heel to stride out the door. She leaned against the wall, clutching the windowpane to keep from following him. Oz, this was such a mess. How was it everything she tried to make right always ended in misery?

"There you are, beautiful." Aruc strode in, all grins and cheerfulness. "We've been missing you."

"I'm sure."

She stood to walk past him, but he caught her hand. "Leaving so soon? I just found you."

She snatched her hand away. "I wish you hadn't."

"Now, Elphaba." He leaned toward her conspiratorially. "Last time we played this chasing game, Fiyero nearly banished me."

"If only he had," she retorted coldly. "Perhaps then you might leave me be."

He pulled back. "You're upset."

She huffed a laugh. "You torment me endlessly with this pathetic attempts to gain an affection I will not have for you, and you wonder that I'd be upset."

"I'm sorry."

"Unlikely," she hissed. "Your persistence is not endearing."

Aruc studied her. "What upset you?" She scoffed, and he shook his head. "No, you were upset before I came in. Though I am sorry to have annoyed you further."

"That's all you do. Annoy me. Pester. Do you think you'll needle me into caring for you? You won't."

She wanted to hurt him, to vent some of her frustration and anger and misery and disappointment and desperation on him, but his eyes only conveyed sympathy. "Fair enough."

She glared at him.

"I'm here if you want to talk about it. Or yell at me. Whatever will help."

"You can't help me. You're worthless, except for a distraction for Nessa or a repository of rude jokes and unsuccessful flattery." He didn't react. Just as Fiyero hadn't, a memory that burned through Elphaba's chest. She wanted either to cry or to set the palace afire. Preferably the latter. "Ugh." She shoved his shoulder. "Are all Vinkan men so thick?"

He smiled gently. "Pretty much."

She stormed out, throwing behind her, "Well, that explains why I can't stand any of you!"


	27. Pressure

AN: I apologize for the length between updates. Hopefully the extra long chapter somewhat makes up for it. Happy Easter, and thank you as always for reading.

* * *

Another sleepless night had left Elphaba with time to think. Fiyero had been right. Even though any time spent alone was a breath from disaster, disbanding the lessons wasn't worth the misery and bitterness engraved on his face all evening. His pathetic shadow of a smile had haunted her all night. Surely she could compromise this much at least, after all he'd done. There was no reason for her sister to find out, and a lesson wasn't a betrayal, even if her pulse did flutter in anticipation. She'd just have to keep them on task.

She found the dining room half-empty. Fiyero stared glumly into his breakfast as Three chattered on, draped over his shoulders like a fur. "You're so warm. Must be nice to have such a warm constitution."

"Fiyero, can I speak with you?" Elphaba interrupted, as much to liberate him as to apologize. "In private."

Three lifted her eyebrows, but Elphaba's attention rested on Fiyero as he rubbed a weary hand over his face. "I'm not sure I'm ready for another quarrel this early in the morning."

"It's not a quarrel." His disbelieving look drew her blush. "It's not."

Three scooted closer to his side. "Surely it might wait until after breakfast."

"It's important." Fiyero's jaw tensed, and she realized his apprehension. Which she deserved, considering everything important they'd discussed had meant him suffering through some new torment. In the most apologetic tone she could manage, she offered, "It's about that…book you mentioned. I thought we might discuss it again."

His eyes snapped to hers. "The book?" She nodded, fighting a smile at the guarded hope in his expression. "Really?" She nodded again, a tenuous smile blossoming despite herself.

"Yes, so terribly important," Three scoffed, but Fiyero stood.

"Of course."

He crossed to her, much to Three's confusion. The loss of her target left the cool woman flustered, and she blurted, "Which book? Perhaps I've read it."

Elphaba narrowed her eyes. "No."

Fiyero mitigated her words with a diplomatic, "It's limited edition. Please pardon us."

Three crossed her arms. "Well, you needn't leave to discuss it."

"Oh, but it would be rude of us to discuss it in front of you," Elphaba imitated Three's obnoxious coo. "You wouldn't understand any of it."

Three narrowed her eyes. "It will inspire me to read it, if Prince FIyero would be generous enough to lend me his copy."

Fiyero blushed at the unintentional implications. Elphaba shook her head. "Then we wouldn't want to spoil it for you. Excuse us."

They slipped out the door before Three could continue, and Fiyero led her to the stairs. "I thought we'd retired this book. Too dangerous."

She folded her arms around herself. "Well, perhaps I was…hasty."

"Hasty?" She met his eyes, surprised at how gentle they'd become. "As in…"

"As in we might could consider future…book discussions."

"Is that so?" He led her into the library with a hand on the small of her back. A hand he didn't remove. "How do I know you won't decide they're too dangerous again?"

"You don't. Because they are. But you might have been right. Surely we can discuss the book without…reading other manuals."

He chuckled. "You were right. This is a terrible code."

"And you were right." She lifted sincere eyes to face his. "I'm sorry." The tenderness in his face melted her as he cupped her cheek.

"So we'll start lessons again?" She nodded, and he tucked a loose strand behind her ear. "You wore your hair down."

She avoided his eyes. "Well, I did want you to forgive me."

"So it _was_ for me." He grinned. "Consider yourself thoroughly forgiven."

He pulled her into his arms, and she rested her head on his shoulder for a long moment, reveling in the relief. She willed this not to backfire on them. "We can be friends, can't we?" she asked, hoping he could remove the uncertainty. He nodded and pressed a tender kiss to her hand, all smoldering eyes and lingering lips. "Fiyero," she cautioned.

"What?" His hands slipped up her arms, and he kissed her cheek. "I mayn't kiss a friend on the cheek?"

"Not like that."

"Like what? Like this?" He brushed a lingering kiss on her temple.

"Yes, like this. Don't play innocent." He shot her a look, and she narrowed her eyes. "You know that's not what I meant."

"I missed you," he sighed, holding her tighter against him. "Oz, so much."

"It's only been a day."

"And two nights."

She smiled in an odd combination of amused and touched by his correction. "I missed you, too."

"Please tell me you've reconsidered?"

"Reconsidered what?"

"Staying." He leaned back to study her face, cautious and intense, and she swallowed.

"I'm surprised we haven't left already." A guilty flicker washed through Fiyero's expression, and she narrowed her eyes. "What have you done?"

"Nothing." He took a step back. "I might have mentioned to my parents that a third-party's opinions on a few difficult tribal disputes could seem more fair to those involved. And that a certain official already here would be too perfect an opportunity to ignore."

"A certain official like – Frexspar?" Fiyero couldn't hide his smile. "How long?"

"A month at least."

She shook her head. "You're incorrigible. Here I'd believed it to be another silly Vinkan custom to have all your guests stay here indefinitely." He chuckled. "So how long is Aruc staying then?"

Fiyero shrugged, "As long as you are, no doubt. Though I can hardly fault him. I'd follow you to the ends of the earth, myself."

"And Three?"

"Who knows? Was she even invited?" Elphaba burst in laughter, her cackles so hard that she fell against him, breathless. He smiled down at her and locked his hands to keep her from escaping. "A small price to pay for this."

She sobered, though not enough to abandon her place against his neck, safe from his view. "I will have to leave, Fiyero. Sooner or later."

He nuzzled the top of her head, "Then it'll be later. As much later as I can manage."

"What good will that do anyone? At least without me here, you'll have a chance to fall in love with Nessa."

He stiffened, and she refused to look up and see the harsh anger that must be in his eyes. His arms tightened around her. "Enough. This is an argument we seemed destined to repeat, and I'll not have you talking yourself away from me when I just got you back. If you want to believe that ridiculous delusion, go ahead and try. So long as you do it from right here." He kissed her crown. "I have no doubt what truth time will find in the end."

* * *

"Ugh, so full." Aruc patted his stomach. "You'll spoil me, and no comments out of you," he winked at Elphaba before she could deliberate her well-crafted insult. "Does your mother deliberately ask them to cook my favorites?"

"You know my mother fancies you. It's embarrassingly obvious," Fiyero shoved his shoulder. "Luckily my father is oblivious, or you'd find yourself mysteriously the Ambassador to the Great Desert."

"Then let's hope he remains that way. Between the beautiful women and the delicious food, how could I resist dining here?"

"If you're going to be over for dinner this often, we should find you a room," Fiyero teased.

"I have just the room in mind."

Elphaba slid away from his arm before it landed. "If you say mine, I promise you'll regret it."

"What if I just imply it?"

"Then I'll just _imply_ that you're a disgusting ape who shouldn't be allowed within a mile of civilization." Elphaba sweet smile hid the sharpness of her words. "Understood?"

"I couldn't quite get the diction on that middle part. Care to come closer and repeat it?"

He winked, and she sashayed closer, with a cool smirk. "I said," she whispered in his ear, "that you're…" She leaned an inch from his ear, and shouted, "Disgusting!"

He responded by snatching her round the waist and hauling her into his arms. "Worth it." She hissed a string of insults, slapping at his hands, as the others laughed.

Fiyero shook his head. "Alright, put her down."

"Are you kidding me? Not where she can get her vengeance. At least give me a fighting chance: a secret passage, a trick door with a sturdy lock, anything."

"You made your bed."

Aruc grinned down at her. "Hm, beds...what did you say about a room?" Elphaba glared at him, and he laughed. "Or I could just carry her around like this. It's much more fun than I'd expected."

"Master Aruc, you set me down this very second or I'll-"

"You'll what?" She squirmed violently trying to dislodge herself from his arms, and his grin faded to a frown. "Stop that. I don't want to really hurt you. You could break your neck, silly girl."

"Then set me down."

"Fine – for a kiss."

"Ugh. I'd rather have the broken neck." She appealed to Fiyero, "So you wouldn't let him chase me, but you'll let him manhandle me like a rug?"

"You're not a guest, anymore," Aruc argued. "Now you're family."

Fiyero set a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Okay, you had your fun. Set her down now."

As soon as her feet touched the ground, she punched Aruc as hard as she could right in the stomach. He doubled over, and she bent to hiss in his face, "That's the least you deserve, hauling me like a sack of potatoes."

"Elphaba-"

"No, I deserved that." Aruc winced as he straightened. "I love a girl with spunk."

"I'll show you spunk." Elphaba hauled back to punch him again, but Fiyero caught her arm.

"Settle down. It was a joke, and you've gotten your revenge. Let it go."

"Stupid joke."

"Nessa always likes it," Aruc leaned toward her, "right?"

"Stop making a fuss, Elphaba." Nessa shook her head. "He didn't mean anything. Aruc's just a big teddy bear, and you know it."

"A teddy bear that leers and paws at me constantly. Now I'm to let him toss me about, too?"

"Come on, Aruc. Let's find you a room before she murders you." Fiyero led the other man down the hall. Elphaba straightened her frock and pulled the loose hairs behind her ear to regain some sense of composure.

"Hmm." Three dusted an invisible piece of lint off her arm. "Not at all the reaction I'd have to that gorgeous man flirting with me."

"I think we all know what your reaction would be."

"And now we've no men to entertain us." The sisters shared a look. "What shall we talk about? How are things with your new husband, Nessarose?"

Nessa's stare was cold. "Fine."

"Good, good. And you, Elphaba? This little tantrum aside, are you enjoying Master Aruc's attentions? You would make such an adorable couple, wouldn't they, Nessarose?"

"I've always thought so, but it's her choice to make."

"Yes, of course. But…" Three circled closer and studied Elphaba with a falsely sympathetic air, "And please pardon, I mean only the best, but it's not as if you've any other offers, right?" Elphaba narrowed her eyes. "With no other options, the decision regarding Aruc must be fairly simple."

She scoffed, "As if men are the only option. Somehow I think I'll survive fine without one."

"Still, handsome, funny, wealthy and kind - he must be a difficult package to pass up. I don't think I could unless I were with someone else, don't you?"

"You? Or a rational, competent woman not defined by chasing a man?" Three lifted her tailored eyebrows. "If you so admire Aruc, you're welcome to him."

"I see you're not in a discussing mood. If you ladies don't mind…"

Nessa waited until Three had made it a significant distance down the hall to sigh, "I really hate that woman." Elphaba set an arm around her sister's shoulders in unspoken agreement, and they headed toward their rooms. "Still, she isn't wrong about Aruc. Father would be overjoyed if you would at least consider him."

"Why should Father care?"

Nessa stopped walking. "That's why you're still here. Father was hoping for a second engagement."

"Fiyero said it was to consult with their treaties."

"That's probably what he thinks it is, but I convinced Father that Aruc would be a good match for you."

Elphaba stared at the corner of the ceiling, willing herself not to explode at her little sister. "And I'm sure he jumped at the chance to be rid of me."

"It's not like that. Father loves you. He wants you to be happy."

"At least he isn't forcing me. Yet."

Nessa stepped closer. "He didn't force me, either, Fabala. I know it didn't work out like we'd planned, but Father had only the best of intentions."

"I wish I shared your faith in him."

"Yes, well, I wish you share my faith in more than just Father."

"Nessa, don't start."

"Fine. But you could still do a lot worse than Aruc. At least he's loyal." Elphaba started to argue, but Nessa sighed. "You should give him a chance. At least one of us should be happy here." Elphaba couldn't think of anything to say, so she set a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder. Her sister blinked up at her, unshed tears glittering like dewdrops on a rose. "He's having an affair."

"Aruc?"

Nessa shot her a look at the pathetic attempt to buy time. "Fiyero. With Three, I'm almost certain."

"What makes you think it's Three?"

"You've seen the way she is. And I know he's with someone else. Who else could it be?"

Elphaba fought the urge to fidget. The opportunity to confess might as well have been gift-wrapped. By not answering, she was lying as surely as if she confirmed it. Not that Nessa would be relieved by the truth – that Fiyero's affair, minor though it might be, had been with her own sister. And Elphaba didn't fool herself that Nessa would be less hurt that it had only been a kiss, or rather several, and nothing more…indecent. No, telling Nessa would in no way make it easier to bear. Better to let her believe in terrible, hateable Three. Whatever it might weigh on Elphaba's conscience.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded. "Sorry. Just such a horrible thought, Fiyero with Three."

"I know," Nessa sighed. "What is wrong with me, I mean, besides the obvious?"

"Nothing!"

"Fabala-"

"You are beautiful and wonderful, and anyone would be happy to be with you. Period."

"If you can't convince yourself the same, why should I? I at least have some proof. What's your excuse?" Fiyero returned without Aruc in tow, and Nessa quickly turned before the prince could see the tear tracks still wet on her cheeks. "If you'll excuse me, it is time for my prayers."

He tilted his head at her odd exit, and then turned to Elphaba, confusion clear on his face. "What was that about?"

"What do you think?"

"I suppose that means I've been excommunicated again, until your conscience swings back in my direction?" She shook her head, fighting her defensive gut reaction to his bitterness. "At least you can't accuse me of ignoring her. She's the one who left."

"To hide her crying, you dolt. She's devastated by your affair with Three."

"Three? Why in Oz would she think that?"

Elphaba gave him a look that questioned his sanity. "Because Three is shameless, ogling you, draping herself on you. It's disgusting."

"Thanks," he shot back sarcastically.

"Your wife is literally in the same room half the time. I can't believe she'd be so brazen." He shrugged, and she crossed her arms. "Don't you have anything to say?"

"Well it's not as if I've encouraged her. But if you come to me in search of outrage that one might consider adultery, I fear you court the wrong sympathizer."

"So you enjoy Three ogling you like a piece of meat, disrespecting your wife in the process?"

"My wife," he frowned, "knew what she was getting into."

Elphaba glared at him, jutting forward into his personal space, "She still deserves respect, certainly from her husband."

"She didn't have to marry me."

"You didn't have to marry her."

"Oh, really?" He arched an eyebrow. "Did you push her into it also? Did you threaten and manipulate her, also? Knowing full well that she would do anything you asked, no matter how painful she might find it?"

Elphaba jabbed a finger in his chest. "Don't play martyr, like you're the only who's sacrificed here. You're just the only one unwilling to see it through."

"See it through?" He caught her chin and hand, pulling her toward him. "How would you like me to see it through? What must I do to make you happy now? Shall I murder Three in cold blood for annoying you?"

She glared.

He adopted a conciliatory tone, "I will. Say the word. Nothing matters compared to you." She couldn't help the twitch of a smile, and he wrapped her in his arms. "Would poison suffice or must I have her burned at the stake."

"Tarred and feathered." They both chuckled at the absurdity of that image, and Elphaba relaxed against him. "But don't. She isn't worth it."

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You are. Worth anything and everything."

* * *

Elphaba buttered a croissant. "Pass the bryla?" Aruc handed it to her with a cautious smile. She fought not to roll her eyes at his hopeful expression. "Oh, for Oz's sake. What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing." He shifted at her narrowed eyes. "Provided you have no current grievances with me."

She rolled her eyes. "I forgive you for yesterday. If you never pull that stunt again."

"Yes, ma'am."

She patted his cheek with a mocking smile. "Good boy."

Three smiled knowingly. "I see you've taken our discussion to heart."

Elphaba jerked her hand back, and Fiyero tilted his head. "What conversation?"

"What an adorable couple they would make. Don't you agree?"

Aruc grinned, "You were discussing us?"

"Not by choice," Elphaba scowled.

"Look how precious they are," Three cooed to Fiyero. "Don't you think they would have beautiful little babies?"

Aruc set a hand gently beside hers, his voice low and intimate as he asked, "And you? What did you think?"

"She is determined to be obstinate, I'm afraid," Nessa supplied. "Despite your obvious suitability for each other. Oz, Fabala, who else would be patient enough to put up with your constant tantrums."

"Yes, who indeed?" Fiyero teased, and Elphaba glared at his wicked grin.

"Can't I be left in peace?"

"And what of Aruc's peace?" Fiyero leaned back, hands behind his head. "Is he to be constrained to a life of misery pining for you? Wanting you without the slightest chance to express it?"

She crossed her arms. "It's his own fault for pining."

"Is it?"

The subtext weighed on her, and she refused to answer. "The poor man has been wallowing at your feet since you've arrived," Nessa chimed in. "Surely you could allow him at least the opportunity to court you. No promises, just an opportunity."

"Fine. If it will shut you all up."

"A real chance," Nessa clarified, "not an evening of beratements and insults."

Elphaba rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes." She turned to the man who'd fallen uncharacteristically silent. "And you? No two cents to throw in with everyone else's?"

"I think they did well enough without me." Aruc eyed her hand with carefully concealed hope. "I would rather not ruin it."

"Ruin it?"

"Every time I speak, I tend to offend you somehow."

She scoffed. "Yes, a marvelous pairing."

"See." He touched his fingertips tentatively to the back of her hand. "But I really would appreciate an opportunity-."

"A real one," Nessa interjected.

"-to win you over."

She sighed, but it was Fiyero's mirthful smirk that tipped the scales. She narrowed her eyes at the grinning prince. "Alright, Aruc. Tonight." Perhaps if she could force affection for Aruc, they might break this stalemate of forbidden attraction and set them all free.

* * *

The day passed slowly with Fiyero occupied in matters of state. Elphaba used the solitude to read, a pastime she'd greatly neglected despite the frequency it was used as an excuse. "Fabala?" Nessa burst in, a parade of stewards behind her. "It's time to get you dressed."

"I am dressed."

"For dinner with Aruc."

Elphaba set her bookmark as a precaution, though she continued to read. "With all of you, don't you mean?"

"Yes, but he's courting you tonight."

"I fail to see how that necessitates different clothing."

"Don't be difficult. You agreed to give this a chance. That means dressing up."

"I don't see why. He inexplicably has no qualms with how I normally look. If he doesn't mind, why should I?"

"I'm sure he would appreciate your effort." She turned a page, her attention pointedly focused on the text. Nessa harrumphed, reminding Elphaba of her four-year old sister in pigtails whining for inclusion in games she couldn't play. "You have ten seconds to get up, or I'll send for Father."

"To do what?"

"Haul you out of bed himself." Elphaba shrugged. "Or convince him that an arranged marriage to Aruc would be the only way to get through your stubborn skull."

She looked up at her sister's outburst. "Why does this matter to you so much?"

Nessa pouted, "You promised."

"Fine." She stood up with a sigh. "What do you want me to wear?" The stewards descended on her, tugging her hair and powdering her awful skin, all directed by her sister. They squeezed her in a tightly corseted dress that Nessa had patterned after their original gowns, and stepped back for the new princess's approval.

"You look so lovely, Fabala. He's going to be mesmerized."

"Great," she rolled her eyes. "Just what I need."

Elphaba trailed after her younger sister halfway to the dining hall before they caught sight of Aruc, similarly overdressed and very anxious. Nessa whispered a stern, "Behave tonight. He's my friend, and I won't appreciate you mistreating him," as Aruc made his way toward them. He bowed low and dipped a formal kiss to the back of her hand.

"You look beautiful."

"Nessa made me."

"Yet another reason I have to be in her debt." He tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. "After dinner, would you be inclined to take a walk?"

"Wouldn't that depend on dinner?" Nessa shot her a look, and Elphaba sighed. "I mean, that sounds fine."

Aruc thumbed her cheek. "Are you sure you want to do this? You look miserable."

"I don't mean to. I don't appreciate being bullied into this, but I'm not miserable. So long as you don't make me regret this."

"Fair enough." He led her to sit beside Fiyero and pulled her chair out with relish. "I've been waiting ages to do that."

Elphaba plopped in her seat without any attempt at grace and stole a glance to Fiyero, who regarded her with thinly veiled amusement. "What?"

"Nothing. How's your date?"

"Fine." Aruc sat beside her, his hand held out with a hopeful expression on his face. The others stared at her, and she took it without rolling her eyes, a remarkable feat of will if ever there'd been one.

"You look lovely," Fiyero offered with a casual air, and Elphaba frowned. Shouldn't he be more bothered by this, for one who claimed to be desperately in love with her?

"Nessa."

Aruc squeezed her hand. "Though I'm certain you would look just as lovely in any attire."

"See," she sent to Nessa. "I didn't have to get all dressed up like this."

"Oh, hush. You look pretty; everyone's said so."

The adults arrived then, and she caught the unsubtle look her father gave their joined hands. She fidgeted, wanting to let go, but Aruc soothed her palm with a gentle thumb. Frexspar didn't exactly smile, but an odd fondness he'd never directed at her crept into his expression. Was that – approval? Elphaba leaned away in displeasure with her own reaction to that. Since when did she seek Frexspar's approval?

Aruc squeezed her hand and fell into conversation with the table, but the words bled past her. How long would this dinner last? Had it always taken so long, or had she just noticed it now, captive in the awkward tension from both sides? The stewards finally began to distribute their plates, and she fumbled with her silverware one-handed.

A hand landed in her lap, and Elphaba jumped. She spun to slap Aruc, but as he faced her, eyes wide at her sudden movement, she realized his hand still rested chastely in hers. She snapped to glare at Fiyero, whose attention remained resolutely on whatever useless remark Three was blathering on about.

"Alright?" Aruc asked.

"Fine," she croaked, desperately trying to ignore the warm fingers massaging her knee. "Just hungry."

He winked. "I do love a girl with appetite."

Her smile was weak as the hand crept up her thigh. Her breath came faster. Her muscles tensed. He reached the edge of her napkin, and she swallowed thickly. The fingers traced patterns, distracting all hope for thought. "Huh?" She stared blankly at Aruc, lost in whatever he'd been saying to her.

"I asked if you might reconsider riding. I understand your first experience might have been – intense, but I'd like an opportunity to sway you to its benefits."

"You should," Fiyero teased as his fingertips teased in a very different way. "I think you could come to love riding."

She glared at his smug expression. Stupid men. Two could play at this game. "Of course, Aruc, I'd love to go riding with you." She set a hand on his arm in her best imitation of Three. "I'm sure you'll keep me safe."

Aruc raised an eyebrow at her behavior, but he didn't argue. "Should we aim for sunset, or would you rather we take that walk tonight?"

"Why don't we try for sunrise instead?"

Fiyero swallowed a smile. "Would you like a picnic prepared? I'm sure the stewards wouldn't mind."

Elphaba glared at him and hissed through her tense smile. "What a wonderful idea."

He grinned back. "Glad to help."

She gave him a curt nod and brushed his hand off her lap clandestinely. She turned back to Aruc. Her other hand came to rest on their joined ones and caressed the fingers lightly. Aruc looked from them to her face, and she leaned her head on his shoulder as much to hide from his gaze as to provoke Fiyero. "You have nice fingers."

"Do I?" Aruc murmured. His other hand came to sweep the hair from her forehead. "I don't know how I've managed this sudden surge of goodwill, but I'm very grateful. Please let me know so I can repeat this as often as possible."

"Is it so hard to believe I'm not a callous shrew?"

"More that I've never seen you this affectionate in public. Not that I'm complaining. Just – surprised. I thought you could barely tolerate the idea of this."

"You won me over."

"Did I?" He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I don't see how, but I'm certainly glad."

She peeked at Fiyero, and huffed when she saw his amused smirk. She pulled away, and Aruc leaned down, concerned. "You're right. We shouldn't be so demonstrative in public."

"Does that mean in private-"

"Don't push your luck." She managed to ignore both men the rest of dinner, through valiant effort considering their combined pestering abilities. When they stood to leave, Aruc caught her hand.

"Ready for our walk."

"Would you mind terribly fetching me a shawl? I seem to recall it gets quite cool here in the evenings." Aruc disappeared down the hall on his mission, and Elphaba caught Fiyero's arm. She tugged him into a niche that afforded a fair bit of privacy. "What is the matter with you?"

"Me? You're the one leading him on again."

"Which you seem to find hilarious now." She crossed her arms. "So much for this overwhelming infatuation of yours."

"What did you expect me to do? Jealously shove him off you? Growl and frown at every touch?" She fought to keep her expression blank. "I've no need for jealousy." He dipped to press her lips in a soft, sensual kiss. "I know what's mine."

"Not me, that's for sure."

"Oh?" He coerced another kiss, teasing and sweet. "I think your lips would beg to disagree. Shall we ask them?"


	28. Contention

Elphaba shoved Fiyero away. "Quit before someone sees you."

He smirked and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. "You mean your precious suitor?"

"And your friend. He'll be back any second."

He stepped back at that, not quite managing to hide his smug smile. "Poor Aruc. You really shouldn't lead him on like that. He was infatuated enough without these false hopes."

"Who says they're false?" He laughed, but she kept her eyes trained on the ground. His cocky smile faltered…then fell.

"Wait, are you serious?"

She forced a confidence she didn't feel. "Perhaps a more available option is exactly what this situation requires."

His eyes darkened. "I see. It isn't enough to use him to provoke me to jealousy. You've got to exploit his affections indefinitely?"

"You make it sound like I'm a conniving little schemer like Three."

He crossed his arms. "Your actions are what indict you, not me."

"Me?" She narrowed her eyes. "You're the married man tempting women into empty corridors to seduce them."

"Not women – singular. And you're the one who brought us here."

"You're the one who kissed me."

"You're the one who liked it."

She snapped her mouth shut before she said something she'd regret, and he followed her example. They stood nose to nose for a long moment, both breathless and fuming. Her jaw jutted forward stubbornly, but she could feel her resolve weakening as his eyes bored into hers. After a seeming eternity, he dropped his gaze and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Right. Well. If I've driven you to Aruc in desperation to rid yourself of me, allow me to offer a remedy." He turned on his heel and left. Elphaba called out to him, but he didn't turn.

"Everything alright? Was that Fiyero?"

She spun to face Three, a shrewd smile pasted on the girl's face and a slimy arm draped on her Nessa's shoulders. Unresolved frustration boiled in Elphaba as she shoved the other girl a step back. "Stay away from my sister."

"Elphaba!" Frexspar strode to stand behind her. "What is the matter with you? Where's Master Aruc?"

She rolled her eyes with a menacing sneer. "That would be all you care about."

"Well, I'd like to know why you're behaving like a savage, but I thought we could start with the easier conversation."

"It's none of your concern for either one." She stabbed a finger toward Three. "And I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but keep away from Nessa."

Nessa stepped to Elphaba's side. "Fabala, calm down. She didn't do anything to me." She lowered her voice to a soothing, placating tone, "The queen asked us to discuss Fiyero's birthday festivities. They thought she could help considering how short a time I've been here."

"I don't want you anywhere near that manipulative witch."

"That's enough," Frexspar barked. "I've tolerated this rude behavior for too long, I'm afraid, but no longer."

Elphaba snorted. "Yes, because you've had anything at all to do with _me_."

"It's time I started a firmer approach."

Three raised a hand in perfect imitation of innocence. "Please, Brother Frexspar, I hate to cause such a dispute over what I'm sure must be a misunderstanding."

Elphaba whirled on her. "Don't you even try that. Don't you try to pacify me with this 'play nice' routine. I know exactly what you're trying to do."

"I said enough!" Frexspar grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She spun on him but he squeezed a firm hand on her elbow. "Shut your mouth, girl, before you make it worse for yourself."

"Okay I've got your…" Aruc jogged in, and then slowed to a halt as he took in the scene. Her shawl dangled like a limp noodle in his hand. "What's happened?"

"I'm afraid Elphaba won't be able to join you. She needs to pack. She'll be leaving in the morning."

Elphaba jutted her jaw forward with a proud condescension, but Nessa's face fell. "Father, no!" She stepped toward him awkwardly, and he released Elphaba to offer a supportive hand. "Please, Father, don't be so rash. Let her go with Aruc, and we can decide this in the morning."

"I see no reason to reward her bad behavior."

But his stern demeanor cracked. He could never resist Nessa long. She peered up at him through her lashes, ever the perfect, penitent daughter. "Please? She should go with him. He'll keep her out of trouble, won't you Aruc?"

Aruc took a hesitant step forward. "Of course."

"He'll be good for her," Nessa whispered. "Please, just wait and decide in the morning. Does not the Unnamed God command us to be wise and patient?"

For a long moment, no one spoke as her father considered the logic. Aruc shifted uneasily, and Elphaba murdered the opposite hallway with her eyes. Nessa stared up at him with penitent eyes until finally Frexspar sighed.

"Fine. But you'd better stay out of trouble," he said, glaring at Elphaba. She started to argue, but Nessa's expression kept her quiet. Aruc crossed to stand behind her, his hand on the small of her back. Nessa whispered her thanks to their father. No doubt she'd plead Elphaba's case for her tonight after they'd left, which would only be made easier by her absence.

Three watched the interplay with a keen interest that boded future schemes. "I'm so sorry for all this trouble." She ducked her head in mock humility. "I don't know what I've done to offend you, Miss Elphaba, but I do hope you can forgive me."

"Don't know what-" Aruc caught Elphaba's arm and tightened his hold as Frexspar nodded, fully buying the sleazy girl's false piety. She drew a tense breath. "Don't trouble yourself. I'm sure we'll all receive our due in the end." The camouflage on her threat was thin, but enough that Frexspar didn't push it.

"I hope we can set this all behind us," Three offered with eyes unnaturally wide. "I so hate to quarrel."

Elphaba pressed her lips into a thin line before she vented her frustration all over the lying shrew's pretty little throat. Nessa caught the look and added, "Perhaps we can talk tomorrow. I don't think we're much in the mind for festivities at the moment."

"Whatever you'd prefer." Three cast a sly eye to Elphaba. "I've some business to discuss with Fiyero anyway, and this way I shan't be tempted to tell him any secrets I shouldn't."

"Oh, his party?" Aruc asked stupidly, and Elphaba glared at him. He swallowed at her hostility. "Um, we should get going. Goodnight, sir, ladies."

They nodded back, and he all but dragged her out the back. Once out of view, she pulled away. He held out a hand, but she crossed her arms petulantly.

"Where would you like to walk? The west garden?"

She shrugged. It seemed she would be stuck with him tonight unless she wanted to leave for home in the morning. A trip that seemed more and more worth it every moment.

Aruc fidgeted in the silence until they reached the gate. "Soooo," he stretched out the word. "What was all that?"

"Nothing."

He made a face. "Your father seemed pretty upset." She didn't answer as she strode ahead down a row of shimmering hibiscus. Her fingers trailed through the soft, pale petals, sending them bouncing and waving as she passed. He plucked a flower and tucked it behind her ear. "Flowers really suit you, Elphaba."

She whirled on him. "Let me guess, because I'm green? Must look just like a giant stem." She snatched the flower off and chucked it into the fountain.

"That's not what I meant at all."

He dipped the wet flower out and moved to return it to her ear, and she jumped away from him. "What is the matter with you?"

He cocked his head and stared at her wide-eyed, the dewy flower in his hand. "Um, I don't know?"

"If I wanted it back, I wouldn't have thrown it in the fountain."

He set the flower down. "Sorry. I didn't mean…"

"Just leave me be," she barked, arms wrapped around herself. "I don't see why you persist in chasing me."

"I thought you wanted-"

"Well you thought wrong." She turned her back on him to stare out at the mountains. "I told you before, I won't be caught."

"But at dinner…you didn't mean that?" Her bravado crumbled, and her shoulders slumped at the confused hurt in his voice. She'd had quite the record of hurting everyone who remotely came to care for us. "Hey, don't be upset. I'm sorry."

He set his hands on her arms, and she sighed. "Why are you so set on this? I'm awful. I'm rude. I'm certainly not nice to you."

He cupped her cheek. "You're too hard on yourself. You're wonderful."

"You would say that." She huffed. "All you ever say is flattery. You'll say anything to win me over, for whatever crazy reason you have."

"Okay, first, me wanting a beautiful, spirited, fantastic girl like you is not the slightest crazy." She snorted, and he tilted her chin up. "And I'm not plying you with flattery to take advantage of you. I tell you the truth, always."

"Ugh. More pretty words. That's all you ever say."

She pulled away and stomped toward the castle, but he caught her arm. "Why don't you tell me why you're really upset?"

"I said." He shot her a look, and she frowned. "What does it matter? You'll only twist it into flattery."

"It matters because I care about you."

She scoffed. "Care about wooing me."

He tilted her chin to catch her eyes. "I care because you're my friend." She dropped her eyes, and he released her. "Look, if I upset you this much, I'll leave you alone. Whatever you need, I'm here for you. Even if that means backing off."

His sincerity wore at her until she deflated. "Fine."

He set a gentle hand on her forearm. "Want to talk about it?" She shook her head. He took in her miserable expression and asked gently, "Want to hide from it? For a little while?"

Lost and overwhelmed, she surrendered with a weary nod and let him lead her toward the bench. She sat beside him, her head on his shoulder, as he rubbed a reassuring hand over her back. "Thank you," she whispered, and he smiled against her hair.

"Any time." He pressed a chaste kiss to her crown. "Any time."

She closed her eyes and let the worries fade into the bubbling of the fountain and the chitter of the cicadias. Aruc sat beside her in peace until the light faded. She shifted, chilled by the cooling wind, and he rubbed a hand over her arm.

"Ready to go back?" She groaned, and he squeezed her hand. "You've got to sooner or later."

"Why? Let's just stay here."

He chuckled. "No complaints from me. But Nessa will be wanting to update you on whatever concessions she managed to work out with your father."

Elphaba sneered. "He can't make me do anything."

"But he can send you away, for which I would be very unhappy." She sighed, and he misinterpreted it. "Friend or admirer, your presence is still a pleasure I would deeply miss."

"Ten more minutes." She pressed against his side, desperate to reclaim her numbed peace. With a smile of consent, he lulled her with gentle strokes over her back, comforting and platonic. After twice as long, she stood. "Fine. Let's go face the inquisition."

"Sure you don't want to tell me about it?"

She shook her head. "No, I've talk too much about it already. Nothing gets accomplished, and I just end up angrier." He nodded and started toward the castle, but she caught his arm. "Thank you, though. For the offer. And for not pushing."

Her voice caught, and he traced a thumb over her cheek. "Of course. Whatever you need. I mean it."

She chewed her lip a moment, lost in this sudden rush of affection for him, and then threw her arms around him. He returned the embrace welcomingly and scooped her closer. "I wish I did feel that way toward you," she whispered against Aruc's neck. "I really do. You're a good man."

He smiled and smoothed the back of her hair. "Thank you." He shot her a roguish wink, and she swallowed a laugh, beaming up at the odd comfort his mischievous teasing brought.

"I can't believe it. You were serious?" They spun at the voice, and she stared, shocked, as Fiyero stormed across the pavement to them. "I didn't believe you would really- you can just use him like that? What, to play him against me? Or do I really matter than little to you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't try that." He glared between them intermittently. "I saw you. _Saw_ you with him."

Her hand found her hip. "Saw me what?"

"Throw yourself at him." He whirled on Aruc. "And you. Do you really think she's suddenly fallen head over heels in love with you? After, what, over a month of dismissing you?"

"You've got it wrong, mate."

Fiyero shrugged off the hand Aruc tried to set on his shoulder. "No, you have. She doesn't love you, Aruc. She loves-" Elphaba's eyes widened in a desperate attempt to stop him.

"I know," Aruc interrupted. "I know she doesn't want me. That's what I mean. You've got it all wrong."

Fiyero stepped back, his face scrunched in confusion. "But-"

"I apologized for pressuring her, however innocently, and she accepted. What you saw was just an expression of friendship, right?" Aruc appealed to Elphaba, and she nodded a bit too quickly.

"So for Lurline's sake, shut up," she hissed, eyes wide and warning.

Fiyero stared from her to Aruc and back, his mouth open as he worked through things. Finally, he took a step back. "Right. Well then. Um, sorry to interrupt."

"No problem," Aruc offered with a sidelong look. "Though…" He shook his head and held up a hand. "Don't worry about it."

Elphaba squeezed his hand with the rush of gratitude for his understanding. "Goodnight, Aruc."

Aruc nodded. "Night, Miss Elphaba. I'm glad we took our walk."

"Me, too." She smiled at him and pressed both hands to his. He dipped to kiss her hand, and she pecked a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you. For everything."

"With such sweet payment, how could I refuse?"

Fiyero struggled to keep his face straight and succeeded in a half-sneer. Aruc clapped his shoulder as he passed him. "My door is open, Fiyero. Should you need it. Either of you."

Then he slipped inside, leaving the pair alone. Fiyero studied her. "So all that?"

"Was appreciation for his genuine understanding. You were right. He's not such a bad guy."

Fiyero nodded.

"And you?" She gave his shoulder a gentle push. "What's the matter with you? Why don't you just come out and say that we're-"

"That we're what?" He leaned close. "You've spent all night trying to drive me crazy with jealousy. You spent the last weeks pushing me away and telling me how we can't do anything. You drag me into a marriage with your sister and use it as excuse to push me away. So what are we? What are we really? I'd love to know."

She glared at him. "So it's all my fault."

"That we're suffering the penalty without the crime? Yes."

"So I'm just supposed to give in and embrace this awful idea headfirst because you're deprived?" She huffed. "Why don't you see your little admirer about that? Or better yet, your wife?"

"You should be my wife," he growled. "You should be the one I share my life with."

She sighed. "This again?"

"Yes, this again." He paced, aggression and desperation warring in his expression. "Again, and again, until I get you to see reason. We belong together."

"No matter who that hurts."

"What about who you hurt?" Fiyero tipped his head back to study the stars. "Oz, Elphaba, this is killing me. Can't you see that?"

She leaned back against the wall, the stone chilling her even through the shawl. "It's you or Nessa. I'm doomed either way."

"This can't be better. It can't. How can she be happy? Is she?" Elphaba's silence was answer enough. "So shouldn't someone be happy in this whole mess?"

"So make her happy."

He caught her hand. "I meant you. You can't tell me I don't make you happy."

"Not at her expense."

"Elphaba." He pulled her to him and combed her hair behind her ears. "I can't lose you." He leaned in, his lips light against hers. "Please."

She held herself still, fighting the pull of him. His kiss was too light, like a dream, and as much as she fought it, she wanted to pull him closer, feel the weightless pull that sent her pulse singing. But he pulled back, only an inch, until she leaned toward him.

"See," he whispered, his eyes shut tight. "You want this, too."

She shivered. "I don't want to want it."

"I know." He ran a hand down her cheek. "Me either."

She drew a shuddering breath and pressed her lips to his. He scooped her against him, hands buried in her hair. All the tension and pressure and anxiety bubbled into a darkening need. The kiss deepened, and she clutched a handful of his shirt, hauling him tighter against her.

A faraway part of her registered that this was too public a place for this reconciliation, but that logic was drowned out by the desperate need to get as close as she could. His hand slid to her waist, and she crushed him against her, unwilling to pull back. If she thought this through, she would stop. And she didn't want to stop. Oz, she never wanted to stop.

"Stop, Elphaba," he whispered. "Now."

She pulled back reluctantly, and saw the cause of his concern. Leaning against the gate with a smug, satisfied grin was a willowy woman. Three sauntered forward a step, "Good evening. At least, it seems to be for some of us."


	29. Options

AN: I know, it's been ages. My excuse stopped working weeks ago. But I'm back, and I've written at least a rough draft to the end. Thank you so much to those of you who wrote/reviewed how much you missed this story. I really appreciate your support, and I'm very sorry to have gone so long without updates. Thank you to all of you for sticking with this story, and I promise I will update in a more timely manner.

* * *

"Damn." Elphaba cursed under her breath, and without anything more useful to add, she repeated, "Damn."

Fiyero slipped out of her arms and assumed a dignified grace belied by the tension in his jaw. "Miss Three."

"Your Highness," she cooed. "Lovely night, is it not?"

Elphaba scowled at her. "Skip the pleasantries. What do you want?"

"Me?" Three arched a thin eyebrow. "I believe it's more a matter of what you want. Clearly."

"I hope we can rely on your discretion in this matter." Fiyero shifted his weight toward her in a confiding pose, all charm and poise.

"Of course." She flashed a predatory grin. "I am nothing if not discerning." Elphaba snorted, and Fiyero squeezed her elbow in warning. "I'll leave you to it, then."

They watched Three sashay away and scanned the garden for more hidden witnesses. Elphaba flopped onto the bench and stared at the heavens for some sort of divine intervention. Of all people, Three?

Fiyero took the place beside her. "Don't worry. We'll figure it out."

"With Three? She'll blackmail you into bankruptcy."

"So let her. It's only money."

"A very responsible view for a monarch."

"Responsible," he said with a wry laugh. "Hardly my forte as of late. Would you prefer she slander us?"

"Is it slander if it's true?"

"Careful. You'll get my hopes up." She rolled her neck to glare at him and met his teasing smile. He ran a gentle thumb over her cheek. "I won't let her tell Nessa. I know how much that means to you."

"I thought you favored confession."

"When you're ready. Not before."

She rested her head on Fiyero's shoulder. "Stupid Three." He kissed the top of her head, and they stared together at the blossoming stars. "She must be thrilled. Break up your marriage, and she's got another chance at you."

"I'm afraid I'm quite taken already," he said, draping an arm around her.

"That won't stop her. You should seduce her now and get it out of the way. Keep her quiet."

"You want me to sleep with one woman to hide an affair with a woman I haven't, all for a wife that I don't sleep with either?" He chuckled. "Somehow I don't think you want that."

"No," she pouted. "Probably wouldn't shut her up either."

He leaned down to kiss the side of her throat. "Oh, I don't know. I like to think I can be persuasive."

She gave a gloomy sigh. "And addictive."

He nuzzled her jaw. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Yes." He laughed at the misery she managed to cram in that one word.

"Sorry I'm so much trouble."

"What're we going to do?"

He slid his arm behind her and cradled her to his chest. "I don't know. But we'll think of something." She made a face. "You're brilliant, and I've a lifetime of Aruc's devious pranks to draw on. One of us is certain to come up with something."

"Blackmail her first?"

He shook his head. "Nothing she's done could be so scandalous."

"And she's no conscience to appeal to. Can you think of something?"

"Bribery. Unlike to work. You?"

"Murder." She answered his shocked gape with a shrug. "I didn't say it was a good solution. But it would work."

"True." He swallowed. "But you don't really want to-"

She rolled her eyes. "No, Fiyero, I don't want you to murder Three. Far too messy." She smirked at his expression. "And immoral."

"Morality?" He waved it off. "I was thinking the potential of her haunting us. Think of an eternity with Three."

"There's incarceration."

"I can't actually do that. We'd have to wait until I became king, which is a bit untimely to our dilemma." Fiyero drew a deep breath. "We could hope for the best. She hasn't done anything to threaten us yet." She shot him a look. "I haven't a better option at the moment. You?"

"No," she admitted reluctantly, and he squeezed her hand.

"We'll sleep on it. Maybe then a solution will present itself."

"Yes, because that's worked great for us so far." She rested her head on his shoulder. "Why can't I leave you alone?" she lamented. "Why can't either of us walk away?"

"We do." He rubbed a comforting hand along her arm. "We walk away all the time. We just keep walking back." All too true, she supposed. "We could always run away together." She snorted, but he pulled her back to stare at her. "Why can't we?"

"We have responsibilities here. Obligations."

He pulled her on his lap. "What if I'm feeling very irresponsible?"

She scrambled off and frowned at him. "We can't run away like carefree children."

"Who says?"

"I do. Think of something else." A heavy silence fell, and they stared together at an empty, cloudless sky.

* * *

"There you are." Elphaba looked up from her fruitless research to see her sister in the doorway of the salon, a strange man in black at her side.

"Who's your escort?"

"A steward," Nessa sighed. "Kind enough to help me since my husband is entirely absent."

Elphaba set a bookmark to avoid the girl's eyes. "What about Aruc?"

"To busy chasing you, no doubt." Nessa shook her head. "Besides, it wouldn't be right to be so close to another man."

"But you're only friends."

"Yes, it's not as if I've a husband to be jealous over me, or misinterpret anything." Nessa crossed her ankles. "I didn't think marrying Fiyero would mean he couldn't stand to be near me."

"He's just busy."

"He's not. He's avoiding me again, as if I'm some pariah. He's the unfaithful one. He should be groveling on my knees in gratitude that I still married him."

Elphaba frowned, "Nessa, that's not fair."

"You're right. It's not. That floozy Three is still here, warming his bed at night, and he has the nerve to look at me as if I'm the cause of all this. I should have known that he would make a terrible husband. He has beady eyes. You can never trust people with beady eyes."

"He doesn't have beady eyes."

"He does. Or might as well. And he's too tall. And his smile is crooked."

"Now you're being ridiculous."

"He's probably as crooked as his crooked smile. I bet he's a terrible prince."

"Nessa…"

"And this country is so backward. I mention the Unnamed God, and the people roll their eyes. Roll their eyes, Fabala. At the divine designer of all creation." Elphaba had to resist doing the same. "Surely the Unnamed God does not want me to be polluted by such sinful, depraved people."

"What happened to being a light?"

"I don't want to be a light anymore," Nessa pouted. "I want to have a husband who can face me. I shouldn't be neglected by my own husband. I should never have let him marry me."

"I thought that's the crux of most marriages. And aren't you're the one who pushed for the marriage?"

"So? He should be grateful. I'm far better than whatever heathen girl he'd chosen otherwise. He should be at my beck and call, singing my praises for marrying him and his beady eyes and crooked smile."

Elphaba tilted her head forward in a stern stare. "He's not a slave, Nessa."

"No, but he's my husband. He shouldn't run at the sight of me."

"He didn't want to get married, so now he's dealing with it the best he can. I'm sure he's avoiding you to make it easier on you both until he's adjusted."

"He shouldn't need to adjust. He should love me."

"Like you love him?" Nessa glared, but Elphaba pressed on. "I'm sure an arranged marriage takes more time. Since the feelings weren't already there."

"You would side with him," Nessa huffed. "You two are thick as thieves. Funny how he always has time for you, but can't spare a second for his wife."

"Nessa -"

"Save it. One would think a sister would come before some man, but apparently not. It's no wonder you have no time for poor Aruc. How is he to court you when you're traipsing off with Fiyero?"

Elphaba pursed her lips. "I have no interest in Aruc. How many times must I say it? I know it. He knows it. The only one who doesn't seem to comprehend it is you."

"Have you told Father?" Nessa shot forward so suddenly that the steward set a hand on her shoulder to stabilize her. "He'll make you leave. You can't say anything."

"If I'm such an obstacle for you, perhaps I should."

"No." Desperation flooded Nessa's face. "You can't leave me here like this. Alone."

Elphaba softened. "I'll have to go sooner or later."

"Later, then. In a year – or twenty."

"At some point, Frexspar is going to give up on any courtship."

"So marry Aruc, and stay."

"I don't love him."

"I don't love Fiyero."

Elphaba sighed, "And how has that worked out?" Though it came out harsher than she intended, the girl needed a dose of reality.

Nessa scowled. "Why did you come here, then? I thought you came to support me."

"I did. And I'm trying to. But it doesn't seem to help. Nothing I ever seem to do helps."

"Oh, don't make this about you."

Fiyero ducked his head in the doorway, "Might I borrow you a moment, Miss Elphaba?"

Nessa rolled her eyes and nodded for the steward to help her stand. "You needn't have specified. No surprise you wouldn't want to speak to your wife alone."

He waited until the two left to sigh, "Why must she act so surprised? I laid out explicitly what it would mean, and she's the one who forced us forward. Did she think twisting my arm would melt my heart?"

"She feels neglected."

He shook his head and sent his eyes skyward. "And I've got to make her happy, I suppose."

"No, you're right. You were clear." He eyed her suspiciously, and she took a step toward him. "Besides, I'm starting to think there is no making her happy."

"Who are you and what have you done with Elphaba?"

She shrugged. "My sister has always been…exacting. And critical. But I love her. I want to protect her, to make her happy, except everything I do only seems to make it worse." She rubbed a hand over her face. "Maybe you were right all along. This was a bad idea. I'm sorry I made you agree to this. This is all my fault."

He set his hands on her shoulders and adopted a comforting tone, "We each have our share of the blame." He squeezed her shoulders and nudged her forehead with his nose. "Don't be greedy."

Her smile was small, but genuine. "You're an idiot."

"Guilty."

He pulled her into his arms in a comforting embrace, and she set her head on his shoulder. "Still. I'm sorry."

"Worth it all," he whispered, and she let her problems fade for the moment to focus on the feel of him. His warm hands smoothed over her back, and she pressed her face against the crook of his neck. He smelled as warm as he felt, soothing her frayed nerves.

She heard the footsteps first. She looked up to see Three's hip propped against the doorframe. "Please, excuse me. If you are occupied…"

Fiyero dropped his arms. "Not at all. What can we do for you?"

Three kept her face smooth, eyes cold, and Elphaba couldn't help wondering if the woman had some Cobra blood in her ancestry. "So kind of you, dear Prince. I wondered if perhaps I might impose on you for a small favor."

"Favor?" Elphaba's eyes narrowed. "What sort of favor?"

Three trained her eyes on Fiyero, a coy smile lining her face. "I am in need of some herbs that are unfortunately rare, and I thought you might be so kind as to help me procure some."

"What kind of herbs?"

"Akudjura, Quisawood, Star Anise, and Jimuak." At their unasked question, Three offered, "They are used for the complexion, perfumes, the like."

Elphaba crossed her arms. "Must look your best for Fiyero, hm?"

"With respect, it is not I in his arms moments ago." Three strutted forward with a haughty air. "I had hoped to make a perfume for the new princess. I see the two of us as great friends someday. Growing close. Sharing secrets."

The blood rushed to Elphaba's face, and she snarled, "Keep away from my sister."

Three leaned back with no sign of intimidation. "Might you be able to help me, Your Highness?"

"Like hell!"

Fiyero grabbed her arm before Elphaba could continue her rant, and he leaned close to whisper, "I think we should do it."

"What? No!"

"We haven't any better option."

"So we should let her blackmail you?" Elphaba crossed her arms. "If you give in, she'll never stop."

"It's a harmless request." She scoffed, and he set a hand on her arm. "Look, this will at least buy us some time. If we decide to tell your sister, I want it to be on our terms. Not hers." He made sense, much as Elphaba didn't want to admit it, and she gave him a reluctant nod. Fiyero turned back to Three with a charming, "Of course. I'll see what can be done about your herbs."

Three's smile was predatory. "Thank you, Your Highness. As always, you are too kind."

She set a gentle hand on Fiyero's shoulder, which Elphaba knocked off. Fire glittered in her eyes as she jutted her jaw forward, an inch from the snide woman's face. "Leave my sister's husband alone."

Three lifted a haughty eyebrow. "Shouldn't you, then?"


	30. Strike

It should have taken months to procure the rare herbs, but with the weight of the crown behind him, it took Fiyero a couple days. Elphaba shook her head as he collected the vials and paid the apothecary. "Blackmail always worsens when you give in."

"Are you ready to tell your sister then?" He didn't spare her a glance as they circled their new old argument. Elphaba heaved a sigh. "When you are, let me know, and I'll tell Three where she can shove her herbs."

She gave a reluctant smile at that image. "Can't you hold on to them for a couple days? She won't expect you to have found them already."

"To what purpose? Today or tomorrow, winter or fall, you won't be ready, and I won't change my mind."

"And when she asks something else? Something immoral? Or dangerous? What if she has you murder someone for slighting her mother's cousin's brother?"

He kissed her cheek. "You worry too much."

"You worry too little."

He laughed. "Because now I have you to do my worrying for me."

"Give me the stupid herbs. I'll give them to Three before dinner." He eyed her suspiciously. "I will. But she won't ask me for any 'favors,' that I can guarantee."

He dropped a kiss in her outstretched hand and pocketed the packets himself. "I'm touched that you would be so protective of my charity."

Elphaba followed him into the hallway, arms crossed. "I still say this is a terrible idea."

"Yes, well, we've all seen how that worked for me."

She narrowed her eyes. "You want me to say it? You were right: I shouldn't have pressured you into marrying Nessa. I've only made things worse. You think I don't know that? That it's not blaringly obvious to me?"

He stopped walking and caught her hand. "Elphaba, stop. It's not your fault." She shot him a look. "Well, maybe it is, but no more so than mine. Or Nessa's. We all knew, and we let it come to this. That's why I think we'd be better off clearing the air. The longer we try to hide this, the worse we make it."

"See, and it's my fault we're hiding it."

"Then stop."

She imagined it, the freedom that it would bring. The relief. It tempted her so.

But then she imagined Nessa's face. She wanted to imagine her sister happy for her, but she could only picture the bitter, angry girl that had lashed out at Elphaba before knowing. How much worse once she confessed? She'd lose her sister forever, and while every ounce of her reason and conscience screamed that Fiyero was right, she couldn't accept that. Eyes downcast with guilt and self-loathing, she whispered, "Not yet."

He tilted her chin up and set a light kiss on her lips. "I know. And so we'll wait until you're ready."

Would she ever be? She had to tell Nessa, sooner or later. She couldn't keep up this façade forever. "Soon," she promised, but he waved her off. She drew a deep breath, resolved. "Tomorrow. I'll tell Nessa after her morning prayers. Maybe she'll be more forgiving then."

Though he nodded, he wouldn't meet her eyes. She crossed her arms.

"You don't believe me."

"No." He kissed the tip of her nose. "But I believe that you believe you."

"I will. Hold on to the herbs for one more day."

He touched a hand to his pocket to feel the outline as he considered it. "No, I can't risk it. The herbs are harmless, and if you do feel ready tomorrow, we'll be no worse off. But if you don't-"

"I will." Or rather, she'd make herself.

"A harmless precaution then." As they turned the corner, they saw Fiyero's mother in conversation with Aruc and Three.

"Oh, there you are," the queen chimed. Elphaba let go of Fiyero's arm, but the queen turned to face her instead. "I understand Master Aruc has made known his affections."

Aruc tugged at his collar as Three fixed Elphaba with a catlike grin. "I'm afraid Miss Elphaba has also made known her reservations."

"Nonsense." As the queen prattled on, oblivious to Aruc's discomfort, Fiyero excused himself to take Three aside. He deftly slipped her the small packet of herbs. Three set a hand on Fiyero's arm with a fawning smile, but he managed to escape as Nessa and her steward rounded the corner.

Nessa's eyes narrowed, and Elphaba tensed. "If you'll excuse me," she tried to slip away, but the queen caught her elbow with a deceptively firm grip.

"You would abandon Master Aruc in such despair?"

Aruc shifted his weight to his other foot. "It's no imposition. I'm sure we'll have time to speak at dinner."

"Oh, nonsense. I'm sure it can wait, can it not?"

"I-" Elphaba watched the looming disaster, uncertain whether to press the issue and risk drawing attention to the already delicate situation.

"Right. As I said," the queen pressed on, her words babbling over Elphaba as she watched the pair circle each other. She waited for another opening, but the queen seemed capable of hours of prattle without needing a breath.

"What are you doing with my husband?" Nessa didn't ask so much as accused.

"I'm sorry?" Three lifted her eyebrow in an ineffective attempt at innocence. "What do you mean?"

"Don't lie to me. I saw you together."

"Oh," Three adopted a cajoling tone that was condescending at best. "That was nothing. He brought me some herbs to use in my cosmetics. He's such a dear, thoughtful man, isn't he?"

Nessa snarled, "Don't think I don't know about you."

"About me? I can't imagine."

"You may have him seduced with your harlotry, but I'm not so blind. The Unnamed God rewards the good and punishes the wicked. This day your sins will find you out. And I pray, oh, how I pray, that I might be the instrument of your destruction."

"Me? I don't believe it's my sins you're so intent to punish."

Elphaba shoved through, past any worries of rudeness or attention, but Nessa stormed away from Three before she could say any more. Three pursued, and Elphaba raced after them, dodging the stewards that bustled about their preparations.

Nessa reached Fiyero before either could catch up. He seated her with a cool aloofness that drew a twisted glare from his furious wife. Three rushed toward them, and he lifted his eyebrows in stern disbelief. She slowed, eyeing the pair for a moment, and then sat without comment. Elphaba let out a sigh of relief and stopped her own chase, only to have Aruc slam into her shoulder from behind.

She fell into a steward's tray of goblets, showering them both with a fountain of red wine. Aruc's eyes widened comically as she swiped a dripping strand off her forehead. A drop of wine glistened on the tip of his nose like a bloody tear, poised to fall.

"Lurline, I'm sorry. Are you alright?"

She scowled at him, but between his shock and the red spattering his white shirt, her anger melted from her. He grabbed a napkin from the swarm of stewards and blotted her face clumsily, blushing at the stains dotting her chest. She rolled her eyes and snatched the napkin away. "Is there a reason you're stalking me now?"

"Her Highness sent me after you when you ran off. I didn't know you still found me so offensive."

"It's not you," she reassured, patting her arms dry. "Though in retrospect…"

"Perhaps we are a disaster together." He chuckled, and she found herself smiling back. "I am sorry to have ruined such a beautiful dress."

She waved a dismissive hand. "Feel free to destroy them all so I can return to my old wardrobe."

"And miss you in such stunning array? Not a chance," he winked and took her arm. "If I promise not to send any more food or drink airborne, would you sit beside me tonight? It might appease the queen and free us from another of those awkward conversations."

"Why is she so determined to pair us?" He shrugged, but didn't answer. She took his arm with a sarcastic sigh. "Fine, but only because you destroyed my least favorite dress."

"Yes, I'm far too dangerous to be unsupervised."

His joke sent her gaze to her sister and the powder keg of trouble spoiling for a match. She led him toward them, edging around the spilt liquor and broken glass the stewards had already half-cleaned. Fiyero set a napkin on Nessa's lap with his eyes trained laughingly on Elphaba's wine-speckled frock.

She narrowed her eyes, and he flashed a broad smile over Three's shoulder at her. Nessa snapped at him, "What are you smiling at?"

"Huh?" He glanced back at his wife. "Oh. Elphaba and Aruc's accident. Are you certain they're a good match?"

"Don't lie," she hissed, and he frowned in confusion. "I know where you were looking. Can't you admit it for once?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"I mean Three!" As Nessa raised her voice, she attracted curious stares from the others. "I know what I saw. Don't try to cover it up any more!"

He leaned back with a cautious expression, as if she were a rabid dog. "I wasn't. What is the matter with you?"

"With me?" Nessa's face had turned a bright red, and Elphaba rushed toward her, hoping to disarm the situation before it imploded. "What's the matter with me? Ask your little courtesan there."

Three pushed to her feet with a cold glare and clicked her glass. "Pardon me, your majesties, but I have most unsettling news."

Elphaba's stomach plummeted. This couldn't be happening.

"I regret to inform you, I have learned of some grave misdeeds that I feel honor-bound to bring to light as they concern those seated in this room." A wave of whisper burst out, and Nessa struggled to stand as Three pressed on. "I have discovered that the prince has been seduced into an illicit and unseemly affair - by Miss Elphaba."

A roomful of eyes swung to land on her, and Elphaba paled.

Nessa burst out, "You liar! Don't you dare try to blame this on my sister."

"Elphaba?" Frexspar frowned. "I don't see how that's likely."

"I saw them with my own eyes," Three insisted, "pressed close in the garden and kissing as a man does with none but his lover."

The king assumed an authoritative air. "These are very grievous allegations, Miss Three. Are you certain that's what you saw?"

"Absolutely."

"Liar!" Nessa shouted. "She's the one seducing Fiyero!"

Three's nostrils twitched, but she gave no other sign of tension. "I am not the sole witness, Your Majesty." She nodded toward the shadows, where one of the stewards appeared. "He has seen them, too."

The king called him forward. "Speak honestly. What have you seen on this matter?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. I saw the girl sneak into our prince's room in the dead of night."

"Are you sure it was her?"

"Hard to miss the green, sir. Even in the dark." He ducked his head. "My apologies, miss."

Aruc shook his head. "A misunderstanding. She helped me take him back to his room the night of the bachelor party, that's all."

"Why would you enlist her help?"

"To get him out of her room." Then he swallowed hard, red tinting his ears, as he realized what he'd said. "Though I'm certain he meant to find Nessa."

"Nessa?" Frexspar's eyes tightened as he frowned. "Before the wedding? Why?" There was a collective shuffle of feet, tugging of collars, and coughing of throats. "Outrageous! He sought to…defile," he spit out, "my daughter before her wedding?"

Nessa flushed, appalled and no doubt confused considering their complete lack of marital relations. "Does it matter when he's married her since?" the king reasoned. "Surely he's undone any potential harm to her reputation or morals."

"That's no excuse!" Frexspar's vein throbbed in his neck. "He tried to corrupt my daughter!"

Fiyero rose with a weary sigh. "I did not try to sneak into Nessa's room and seduce her."

"Then what were you…?"

He shot a desperate look to Elphaba, but it was Aruc who took the reigns. "I don't think Fiyero was thinking very clearly. We might have had a bit too much to drink."

"Debauchery, too. Why am I not surprised?"

"Enough," the king pinched the bridge of his nose. "He's married the girl, and that's that. Whatever sins you might view my son guilty of, they are between you and your god. I am more concerned with the allegations of a more grievous crime." He turned to the steward, and the man blanched. "Is this the only witness you bring?"

"I beg your apologies, but this was not the night Master Aruc has explained. I saw them at least a week before the wedding."

The king faced Elphaba, and she puffed her shoulders forward with a confidence she did not feel. "Is there any truth to these allegations? Did you visit my son in his bedchambers?"

"I did."

"At night?" She nodded. "And in an improper manner?"

Elphaba considered whether to confess and be done with it. She'd hoped to tell Nessa privately, but this had gone on long enough. Perhaps if they admitted the mistake and explained…

"No," Aruc shook his head with a confident smile. "No, there's been some mistake. There's got to have been." He turned to her expectantly, "Elphaba?" When she couldn't hold his eyes, the smile faltered, and his forehead bunched in a frown. With a hint of desperation, he turned to his friend, "Fiyero?"

Fiyero hung his head, and Aruc jerked back as if slapped.

"There's no mistake," Elphaba found her voice. "Except the ones we've made."

"You?" Nessa took in the confession with all the self-awareness that she'd suppressed for months. "All this time, he's been cheating with _you?"_ she spat the word at her. "My sister? Ugh, you're disgusting. Both of you. I confided in you, and you never said…you're my sister. How could you do something like that?"

"I'm so sorry," Elphaba reached for her sister, but Nessa stepped away. She swallowed the hurt and willed her voice not to break as she pled, "I never, never meant to hurt you. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't stand the thought of you hating me. Please, I swear I tried not to-"

"How could you not mean to hurt me?" Nessa shouted over her. "You had an affair with my husband. In what twisted, delusional world would that not hurt me? Oh, I think I'm going to be ill."

Frexspar, with a condemning scowl, pulled Nessa beside him as the king stood. "So neither of you deny these charges then?" Fiyero stayed mute, eyes on the ground, and the king called out with a stern voice, "Look at me, son, and answer for yourself."

Fiyero lifted his eyes, suddenly defiant. "Yes. Yes, I fell in love with a wonderful girl, and we were unlucky enough to have been-"

"Romanticized excuses! You are the crown prince. You have responsibilities. Obligations to your countrymen that go before your own selfish desires."

"So I've heard all my life," Fiyero interrupted. He softened as he took Elphaba's hand, his eyes blazing into hers. "But I love her more than anything."

"Apparently," the king bit out in a frosty tone. "Certainly more than your duty to your crown." Fiyero dropped his eyes at that. "Our people come first. Always. Have I taught you nothing?" The king rubbed a heavy hand over his eyelids. "Take my foolish son to his quarters until I decide what to do with him."

Two guards gripped Fiyero's biceps, but he didn't struggle as they led him from the room. Elphaba stepped forward. "Please Your Highness. He wanted to confess much earlier, and I'm the one-"

"Elphaba Thropp, you are to be held for crimes of treachery against the royal family."

"What?"

"I hereby hold you in penalty of law. You may admit your crime and accept banishment for the rest of your natural life, or face a sentence of execution for treason."

"Treason!" Her eyes widened. "For kissing him?"

His eyes flashed, and she saw from where Fiyero drew his intensity. "For corrupting my son! And whatever other crimes I can find you guilty of. Your father warned me about you, and I wish I had listened. When I find out how you bewitched him, and I promise I shall, I will make sure you suffer for every ounce of hardship you have visited on those around you."

She winced at that. However unjust the charge, the punishment would be well deserved. How could she blame him for his anger with all the damage she'd done?

"Your Highness," Aruc stepped forward, but the fierce glare the king sent him brought him to a halt.

"Take her away."

A pair of guards hauled her after them through the halls and down a long, spiraling flight of stairs to a well-secured area that must have been the dungeon.

They flung her in dark, dank, dingy cell of hard-slicked brick so tiny that she could stretch her arms to touch both walls at once. From a narrow opening at ankle level with the gardens beyond, a thin rectangle of light spilled over the gloom.

She sank to the hard, dirty board that served as the sole furniture in the claustrophobic cage. It groaned at the weight, and she leaned back against the wall in case the wood proved rotten. She should have been disgusted by the filth, or depressed at the hopelessness wafting from its every surface, or terrified by the gravity of her fate.

But she could only feel a deep sense of gratitude that she would sleep here tonight. Where she wouldn't have to face Nessa, full of the knowledge of what she'd done. The prison felt a temporary reprieve, hiding her from the consequences she'd have to face in the morning.

Now if she could just hide from herself…


	31. Banished

The sun rose the next morning, filtered through the dusty air, weakened and weary. Elphaba stretched her aching muscles. The moldy dank left a decrepit feeling that clung to her, and she wondered whether she'd be allowed to change out of her wine-stained dress before the long, tiresome trip home.

Home. What would she tell Nanny? The woman would strip her hide for this.

She swallowed at the lump in her throat. Could she go back to dull Munchkinland and forget this country as vibrant as the sun that baked its sands? Or leave her sister and know it was forever? It twisted her stomach. And Fiyero - the boy she'd fought not to love but had crawled in her heart anyway. She'd never see him again.

Would they haunt her forever, forever unable to offer her any absolution? Perhaps execution might be kinder.

The guards came to fetch her, and Elphaba stumbled to her feet. She trailed behind them numbly. As they climbed the stairs, the long hall filtered the noisy argument from the courtyard to them. She recognized Fiyero's voice, "-if you weren't so blind. It isn't right!"

"You're in enough trouble without this insolence." The king's voice trembled with anger. "Be glad this is all she faces."

"It's not her fault. She tried to keep me away, and I wouldn't listen."

"All the better to send her away. Remove the temptation."

"I know you are hurting now, son." Softness smoothed his mother's voice. "The first blush of love may seem eternal, but it is the foolishness of youth that makes it seem so. In a few years, you'll look back and see the wisdom of this. Give your wife a chance, and you may find love with her as well."

"This is madness." She could hear his footsteps pacing. "I won't let you-"

"You have an obligation-" the king interrupted, but Fiyero thundered over him.

"To hell with obligations!"

"I think you've done enough of that." The cold edge to the King's voice sharper somehow than his thundering. They turned the corner, bringing the argument into view. Red-faced, Fiyero clenched his fists defiantly under the king's stern glare, while his mother watched, worried and wan. "I had hoped you learned by now, our personal feelings are always, _always_, secondary to the duties of our office. Like it or not, she is lost to you. Accept it. Grieve. And move on to face the responsibilities you ought never have abandoned."

Fiyero stared at his father, full of anger and betrayal, but the king's eyes did not falter. The queen set a gentle hand on her son's arm. "We may rail against the mountains, but they will not fall, no matter how unfair we might imagine it."

The acceptance landed on his face, and anger gave way to bald misery. "Please," his voice husky with restrained emotion. "I am begging you. Please, _please_ father, punish me, but don't do this to her."

The king's stern façade cracked. "I know you don't believe me, but I am doing this for you."

"How can this be for me?" Fiyero lurched to his feet, arms flung wide. "What next? A lobotomy? Oh, but only for my benefit, for sure."

Elphaba cleared her throat, and three sets of eyes swung to her. She lifted her chin willing any emotion from her face. "Fiyero, hush." He gaped up at her with utter desperation. "I accept my banishment," she choked on the last word, but held a steady gaze.

The king lifted himself to his full height. "You understand that if you violate this, no matter the circumstance, you will hold your life in forfeit."

"I understand."

"No," Fiyero argued, but the fight had left him.

"We always knew it would come to this." She set a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. "Take care of my sister. Don't hold this against her." He balked at that, and she caught his chin in a viselike grip. "Promise me."

He stared at the ground. "You're wrong again, you know. I won't give up on you." She pressed a hand to his cheek with a sad smile. He didn't need to hear the words to know her argument. Or her to know he'd never agree.

Her father led a steward laden with her luggage, and Elphaba pulled away from Fiyero. The king put a restraining hand on his son's shoulder as Frexspar led her from the room alone. "I suppose I should have seen this coming." He sighed, "You've always been rash and too bold for your own good. Though this…this is…"

"Save it." Elphaba straightened her spine. "Your hellfire and brimstone speeches have never had an effect on me, and I've little enough time without you wasting it. Where's Nessa?" He lifted an eyebrow, and she swallowed. "She's not coming?" Elphaba tried to keep her words even, but the waver at the end gave her away.

"Are you really so surprised? After everything you've put her through?"

She shouldn't have been. But she'd hoped on the brink of banishment, her sister might be willing to at least say goodbye. "I wanted to explain."

"What could you say? What could you possibly have to say?" They'd reached the carriage, already loaded for travel, and she drew a thin breath and stepped toward it. "Elphaba." Her father set a gruff hand on her shoulder. "Don't do something foolish. Whatever you think you have to say to your sister, she doesn't have the forgiveness you need."

Elphaba brushed off his hand and stepped up into the carriage. "Is that her speaking, or you?"

He shook his head sadly. "The Unnamed God alone is your salvation. Oz knows, I have failed you entirely." She shut the door without wasting her breath on a reply.

As the miles bounced past, Elphaba rested her face against the glass and studied the changing landscape. The vivid blue sky haunted her with the memories of Fiyero and his mesmerizing tattoos. A dry, leafless tree cast a willowy shadow like a skeleton Three. Heat waves shivered the sun into dazzling brilliance like Aruc's ever-present smile. A snake slithered over the baking stones, its imbalanced dance evocative of Nessa gliding with as much grace as her armless gait could manage. Everywhere she looked.

She leaned her head against the back of her seat. Nothing she could do about it now.

The rattle of the wheels against the rocky road lulled her into a blank, mindless numbness. Minutes trickled into hours, and before long, the sun lit the sky into a red ocean better suited to her mood. It dipped below the horizon with a sort of sympathy, but the sun's banishment ended with morning. She was not so lucky.

The carriage slowed to a halt by the slope of a steep mountain. She peeked out the window, but saw nothing but the blushing twilight. What could cause the driver to stop them here, in the middle of nowhere?

She cracked the door, "Why are we stopping?" When no one answered, she hopped out of the carriage. The evening chill made Elphaba draw her shawl tighter, but the sand still held the day's warmth where it slipped over her toes. She looked left, and right, but nothing seemed amiss. She crept forward toward the driver's place, surprised to find it vacant. "Hello?"

"I rescue you, and all I get is hello?" came a teasing voice behind her, and she whirled around to face Fiyero, a lopsided grin wide on his face. "I thought I'd never get that driver to stop."

She blinked at the mirage. It seemed so real. "You're…what?"

"Surely you can't be so surprised. I did always threaten to follow you if you ran away." He took her hand, but she yanked it back.

"Are you an idiot? You can't follow me. I'm banished."

"So?"

"You're the crown prince, you fool. You can't flee the country."

He shrugged. "I'll abdicate the throne."

Her eyes widened at his nonchalance. "You can't do that. Who'll take your place?"

"Not my problem."

"Of course it is! You owe it to your people."

"They'll get along fine without me." He held up a hand. "I'm staying with you. End of argument. We tried things your way already. I'm calling my turn."

She made a face.

"My father is a good king. He'll come up with something." He wrapped his arms around her waist. "We can go wherever you want. Munchkinland, Gillikin, Quadling Country, the Emerald City. Doesn't matter to me." He set a gentle kiss on her lips. "As long as I'm with you."

Something about the simple frankness in his tone touched her, and though she found it foolishly romantic, she couldn't find it in herself to criticize him. He was who he was. And she loved him. Oz help her, she did.

They stayed there together for a long moment, staring out at the faded stars piercing the sun's dying rays. The wind swept the desert in freezing waves of wind whipped sand, and she scooted into his side, his arms warm around her. She allowed herself to imagine it. "The Emerald City," she whispered. "I've never been there."

"I think you'd like it there."

"Because everything's green?" she eyed him sideways, but he leveled a stern look.

"Because everything's progressive. Loon."

"Loon?"

"You heard me."

"And what exactly is a loon?"

He plopped a kiss on her nose. "You."

"Well how can I argue with that logic?" He tossed his head back in a laugh, and she surprised him with a kiss of her own to the underside of his jaw. He beamed at her, cupping her cheek, and she allowed them the slimmest moment of happiness before she voiced the reality. "We can't go there."

"Why?" She gave him a look that said he knew, and he sighed. "I'm not leaving you. Period."

"Then I'll come back with you."

"Don't be ridiculous. If you go back, they'll kill you."

"I don't think so." He lifted a suspicious eyebrow. "Surely your commitment made an impact on your parents."

"Can we take that risk, though?"

"Why not?" She touched her head to his shoulder. "We can sneak in, and you'll find out while I stay out of sight. By now, they're probably panicked. Can you imagine your mother's face, worried for you?" She knew by his expression that she'd found the right button. "Isn't it worth a chance? I'll stay out of trouble. Promise."

"You? Out of trouble? I'll believe that when I see it."

He was tempted, but not convinced. She could read it on him like a blinding light. Time to pull out the big guns. "You did say you'd follow me anywhere I wanted to go. Were you lying to me?"

"Oh, that's low."

She fluttered her eyes in a comical interpretation of Three. "But Your Highness, you are so strong, and brave, and strapping. Surely you can keep me safe. Isn't there any way I can convince you, dear kind and handsome Prince Fiyero?"

He flung his arms around her waist and spun them widely in a dizzying circle. "I'm supposed to be repulsed by that, am I? Am I?" He pecked her face with kisses until his silliness made her shake with laughter. "Well, I'm afraid you're out of luck. I can't find anything you do unattractive."

"That sounds like a challenge."

He stopped his inanity for a long, slow, beautiful kiss that sent trills of adrenaline through her. When they ran out of air, they leaned their foreheads together. "Alright." She tilted her head, and he clarified, "If you're that certain, we can try it. But you have to promise to keep yourself safe. No crazy risks. You'll stay out of sight until I'm convinced of your safety, no matter what."

She nodded.

"And if this doesn't work out, we'll leave and go somewhere together?"

She nodded again, though slower this time.

"Fine. We'll head back in the morning."

"Why not tonight?" He flashed a grin, but didn't answer. She shoved his shoulder. "Get in the carriage, lothario. What'd you do with the driver?" They found the man snoozing on the other side of the carriage, and together they secured Fiyero's horse alongside the lead. With a yawn, Elphaba clamored in the back and tried to fit herself amongst Fiyero's splayed limbs.

He draped an arm over her and flopped against the back of the carriage. She stifled another yawn as she let rested her head on his shoulder, surrounding her with warmth. It had been a long, emotionally-draining day, but she refused to let her heavy eyelids rest. If she closed them, she might slip into sleep and waste this last precious few hours.

As the carriage rumbled toward her certain execution, and she felt a sudden sense of peace. She was done fighting fate. If this is what it took for Fiyero to live the life meant for him, then so be it. For once, her conscience rested at ease.


	32. Plots and Plans

AN: This chapter might be a little rough. We spent the last week reading straight through the Harry Potter series for the last movie. Any one else see it yet? As always, thank you all so much for reading.

* * *

Elphaba woke to the morning sun peeking over the horizon, its fragile rays as sleepy and reluctant as she felt. She stretched her stiff neck and wiped a heavy hand over her swollen eyes. Her resistance hadn't lasted long before the soothing rattle of the carriage and the warmth of Fiyero beside her lulled her to sleep.

She hid in the crook of his neck from the reality that this would be her last day to live. Fiyero stretched with eyes closed and gathered her to him. His sleep-heavy fingertips traveled over her shoulder and neck before he blindly found her lips.

On an impulse, she pulled back to kiss him. What did she have to lose anymore? He smiled against her lips and clumsily returned the kiss, still leaden and slow with sleep. She wound her fingers in his hair as she lost herself in the feeling of his soft, mesmerizing lips. Gradually he gained focus, and the kisses deepened, strengthened, regained their familiar grace.

His hands found their way around her to crush her against him, tangling their limbs together. He drifted down her neck to nuzzle her collarbone, and she felt his eyelashes flutter open, tickling the sensitive skin by her ear. His breath hot on her neck, he sighed, "You'll spoil me, waking up to this."

"I hate to bear bad news, but you're already spoiled."

He chuckled a low, warm rumbling in her ear. "And you love it." She traced the shell of his ear with a fingertip as her lips skated over his brow. A fierce wave of protectiveness and caring washed through her. It startled her with its intensity, and she had to swallow her sentimental affection before she embarrassed herself. "Where are we?"

She shifted off him to peek out the window, though she couldn't begin to have an answer. He used his new freedom to look out the opposite side, and she took from his tense frown that they were close. "And?"

"A few more minutes, and you should see the palace."

Anxious worries fluttered in her stomach, but she felt an odd sense of peace. For once she would not make matters worse. The disaster would be on someone else's conscience.

Fiyero clutched her hand, and she tore her eyes from the coming end to gaze in his intense blue eyes. "Promise me again: you won't do something reckless and get yourself killed."

Her eyes narrowed. "Thanks for the confidence."

"You know what I mean. Promise."

Besides sneaking back into the castle on a hopeless mission? She nodded. "And you?"

"I'm not the one risking my life here."

"Still." She squeezed his hand. "You mustn't risk yourself to save me." One look at his expression, and she rushed out, "If something happens, which it won't."

"We're turning around." He crouched forward to reach the driver's window on the opposite end of the carriage, and she had to throw all her weight into holding him back. "I shouldn't have even listened to this madness."

"Fiyero, stop it. You can't protect me forever."

"Like hell." He absorbed her stern glare and ran a hand through his hair. "That doesn't mean I have to feed you to the wolves. We'll come back in a few months, once tempers have cooled."

"Once everyone knows that you've fled, and there's no undoing the damage you've caused? You should never have followed me to start with."

"Well, too bad. I did. And I always will. So get used to it." He jerked free and slid the panel open. The man grumbled when he asked for this third direction without a rest, but the carriage slowed and turned around.

"Ugh, why are you so stubborn?"

"Me? That's rich coming from you."

"You want stubborn, fine. If you're so intent to follow me…" She swung the door open as the carriage slowed.

Fiyero leapt toward her with a curse, but she jumped free before he could grab her. She hit the ground with a thud and rolled out of the way of the wheels. The carriage rumbled to a halt, and Fiyero sprinted out after her. She poised on the balls of her feet as he approached.

"Ready to listen to reason?"

He threw an arm toward the road. "Oh, that's reason was it?"

"We're going back. Even if I have to run away at every turn until you give in."

"Oz, woman." He shoved a hand through his hair. "Fine. Just, come on before someone sees you."

He hauled her back toward the carriage with a scowl, but she dug in her heels. "To the palace?"

"Yes, to the damned palace. Should I gift wrap you also? Maybe you'd prefer I behead you myself."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not suicidal." At his look she added, "Merely principled."

"And stubborn."

"I prefer determined."

"Determined to get yourself killed. I'm fairly certain that suicidal."

His face skewed so comically, she couldn't help but kissed his disgruntled frown. "Your foolishness must be rubbing off on me then."

When ordered to turn back toward the palace, the driver shot the prince a mutinous glare, but Fiyero kept a wary gaze unwaveringly on Elphaba, poised to snatch her at the first twitch toward the door.

She drew a steadying breath as they crossed through the gate and beyond to the stables. Fiyero directed them to a rear entrance hidden by the drapery of the east gardens. The shifting shadows in the abandoned pathway reached out like claws, clenching and stretching and swiping at their heels. She sped up until she bumped into Fiyero already peeking through the door.

A cautious glance left and right, and then he nodded.

She slipped inside and eased the door shut. They crept through the empty hallways so stealthily that she couldn't even hear their footsteps above the pulse thudding through her ears.

Now inside, she felt woefully unprepared. They had no plan, none at all. Where should they go? How would she keep Fiyero here? Though she doubted any real success, she had to at least try to escape. What had seemed like a noble sacrifice last night now felt like rash idiocy.

When Fiyero went to his father to plead his case, she'd find a way back to the carriage. She'd just have to trust the king could prevent Fiyero from following her. And if she were discovered on the way out, so be it. Her flight would break Fiyero's heart, but she couldn't let him sacrifice his entire future for her. Again.

Fiyero scouted the corner, and ducked back with wide eyes.

"What is it?" she hissed, and he glared with a motion to be quiet.

Footsteps tapped toward them from the adjacent hall, and he pulled her behind a vase in a narrow niche before whoever approached. She squeezed tight against the wall, but even with him trying to block her, she couldn't be missed.

The person came in view, a steward with his back toward them. She almost let out a sigh of relief when the man continued on in the opposite direction. Fiyero held her still, watching the man until he turned three halls farther.

With a ragged sigh, he moved forward, and she drew a deep breath of her own. "Come on, we'd better hurry."

He nodded, tension alive in his every muscle. They resumed their anxious trek, keeping to unused hallways in a winding labyrinth of twisted maneuvers. Even Elphaba's uncanny sense of direction had failed her by the third staircase when she heard Nessa's voice floating through the thick walls. She tugged hard on Fiyero's arm.

His wide stare asked her question enough, and she pointed toward the wall. His brow drew together, and she placed an ear to it. "Yes, please," the garbled voice was definitely her sister's.

She had to get to Nessa. Plead her case before she was discovered and executed. Make whatever atonements she could so at least her sister wouldn't hate her into eternity.

Fiyero shook his head. She glared at him, and he glared back. "No," he mouthed, and she rolled her eyes. She shoved her way past him, using the wall to guide her. Fiyero caught her arm, but she pulled away and kept feeling her way. "You're determined to get yourself killed, aren't you?" he whispered so softly she wondered if he'd meant for her to hear. "This way."

He led her to the narrow door to a private salon where she could see Nessa having tea. She started forward, but Fiyero threw an arm around her.

"Out of sight," he hissed. "She might not be alone."

"Thank you for the tea. But this doesn't change my mind," Nessa addressed the opposite corner, and Fiyero glared at her pointedly.

Elphaba scowled. "Well we can't stay in the doorway."

"Of course, Your Highness," a cool voice carried through. "More tea?"

Three crossed to the tea stand, and Elphaba jerked forward. She couldn't let that fiend anywhere near her sister. Fiyero tightened his hold, and she struggled against him. "Stop. They'll hear you," his whisper uneven with the effort of keeping her back.

"I am _not_ letting Three near my sister," she grunted.

Her struggles did little against Fiyero strong grip. She watched, powerless, as Three poured a cup of tea. "It's just tea."

But when the vile schemer drew a pouch of ground herbs and sprinkled it on the tea, Elphaba wrenched against him with all her might. She broke free and staggered forward into the room, slamming Fiyero back against the doorframe with her sudden escape.

"Elphaba!" Nessa shouted, shocked. "What in the name of the Unnamed God?"

"Damn it!" Fiyero lumbered to his feet and after her.

Three, eyes wide, backed away from Elphaba as she barreled toward her. "How did you-?"

Elphaba knocked the tea out of her hand and snatched Three by the hair, yanking her head back. "What did you give my sister?"

"Stop." Fiyero caught her other hand mid-strike. "Before you wake the whole castle. For the love of Lurline! Stay out of trouble, huh? Oz, I'm an idiot to think you'd manage that."

"She's poisoning my sister!"

He held her hand steady and plucked the pouch from where the debris littering the ground. "Star Anise. It's a spice; that's all. One of the herbs I got for her."

"It complements the aroma," Three rushed out. "Let go of me."

"Why, so you can blackmail and poison more people I love?"

"Elphaba, stop!" Nessa pushed her way awkwardly to her feet. "What is the matter with you? Let her go."

"But she-"

"I don't want to hear anything that comes from your lying mouth," Nessa interrupted, fire in her eyes. Elphaba's head jerked back as if she'd been slapped. "Three has been nothing but a comfort to me since you betrayed me."

"A comfort? She's trying-"

"Stop it!" Nessa barked. "Let her go, or I'll call the guards now myself."

Elphaba stared at her sister, aghast. "You would?" her voice low and wounded. Fiyero pried her numb fingers from Three's hair, but she didn't fight him.

Three skittered across the floor on her hands, until certain she was out of Elphaba's reach. Then she stumbled to her feet and sprinted out before anyone could catch her. Fiyero pulled Elphaba toward the door.

"She'll go straight to my parents. We've got to get you out of here."

"You really would?" The haughty ice in her sister's eyes answered plainly enough. She slumped as Fiyero hauled her toward the door. Despite the hurt, she'd never expected her sister would...

Nessa's glare weakened, and then she swayed.

"Nessa!" Elphaba jerked free, but her sister fell before she could reach. "Help me!" Fiyero bolted to her side.

"What happened?"

"The poison, you idiot!" Nessa moaned, her eyes rolling back in her head.

"But it's just a spice."

A sickening flush spread over Nessa's chest, and the girl's tiny body convulsed in shivers. "She must have mixed it with something. What else did you get her?"

Fiyero shook his head, fighting panic. "I…I don't remember."

"Don't remember?" she shouted. "Think, damn it!"

He grabbed Nessa's head and tilted some water down her throat. "Maybe we can dilute it, or something."

"Or drown her!"

"You have a better idea?"

She snatched the water away, spilling it on her hand to form a long angry burn, but it didn't even register. "Go get help."

"So I'm to trade your life for hers?" He picked up Nessa's shaking body in his arms. "Hide. I'll find help, but you have to get out of sight before Three-"

The door on the opposite end flung open and a handful of guards rushed in with the King and Three behind them. "There she is. See."

Fiyero cursed, and moved to protect her, but with Nessa in his arms he was too slow. "What wickedness did you manage now, girl?" the King barked, and there was a chaotic din of everyone clamoring over each other to speak.

"She didn't do anything," Fiyero managed to be heard. "It was Three. I saw it all."

Three turned wide eyes to the King. "See how bewitched she has him? It's unholy."

"I'm not-"

"Can we argue about this later?" Elphaba barked. "Nessa needs help."

"You don't fool anyone." Three narrowed her eyes. "If you want to help her so much, why don't you tell the King what you did to her?"

"You poisoned her!"

"When? After you tried to strangle me in my own hair?"

"No, before!" Three shot a catty grin, and Elphaba rolled her eyes. "What happened, the first batch didn't work quickly enough for you? You tried to double the dose?"

"Enough." The King caught Elphaba's arm in a vise-like grip. "For violating your banishment, you are hereby sentenced to execution at first light."

"Father, no!" Fiyero lurched forward, but the guards caught him on each side. Nessa moaned at the motion.

"Be grateful there is no worse punishment I can give." Rage simmered in the king's expression as Nessa's head lolled. "And send for the healers. Pray they find some remedy."

"I won't let-" Fiyero started, but the king thundered over him.

"Confine my son in his quarters. Whatever spell she's cast on you, I'm disgusted that you've allowed it to ensnare you so completely."

The guards hauled her out first, and she lost the rest of Fiyero's objections as they led her down the long hall. They drove her down the winding staircases, but her thoughts were on Nessa. Was there no end to this suffering?

"Here we are," the largest guard grunted, "Home, sweet home." He shoved her forward into the cell she'd left not even a day ago. She paced the length of the tiny room. So much for her noble sacrifice. Fiyero was back, yes, but Nessa was…

She swallowed hard. At least Nessa had been discovered before Three could deliver the second dose. Perhaps, just perhaps, she could fix this.

She rattled the door, unsurprised that it held secure. She scrambled up to the narrow window, clinging by her fingertips, and tried to squeeze through the miniscule opening, but with no luck. Even if she were as flexible as a snake, she'd never fit. She tested every brick, every crevice, to no avail. Though she pried until her fingers bled, there was not the slightest weakening. For hours she worked at every surface, but with no success.

She'd just have to wait until some opportunity presented itself. She plopped against the wall by the door, her face buried in the stone. "I can't believe it neither." She frowned until she remembered the voices through the hallway walls.

"He'll let him," a guard gossiped back. "Ought be able visit his dying wife's sickbed at the least."

"Surprised he cares. Thought he left the girl for this witch."

"Would you rather have that," a gravelly voice croaked, "or that green spitfire warming your bed? Can't see the color in the dark."

Elphaba snarled unseen at the crudeness of the men. Another guard said, "I heard if the little weakling dies, they'll make him marry that one he was supposed to 've."

"That's cold. Not even in her grave, and they're bartering her husband off."

"Should've never married the prince to an outsider anyways. King's finally smartening up. That Three'll fix him of that witch addiction." Laughter echoed, painting an image of crude gestures.

Elphaba sat back. So Three would get her wish after all. A prince and a crown, at only the cost of the Thropp sisters' heads.


	33. Precarious

AN: Thank you for all the reviews. Glad to see I'm not the only one who loves discussing Harry Potter. As always, thank you all for reading.

* * *

She listened to the guards' lewd gossip until her brain felt numb, but the words washed over her unrecognized. No one came closer, offered not the slightest opening. For all her diligence, the most she gleaned from their conversation was they had eaten her last meal themselves.

Her head fell against her knees, and she drew a deep breath. This was it. She was out of options. She couldn't save Nessa. She couldn't save Fiyero. She couldn't do anything. Except die. Tomorrow.

She watched the shadows deepen through her tiny crack of a window. Tomorrow lurked a few hours away, creeping ever toward her like a shadow of its own, but she forced the fear away. She'd have to think of something, simple as that.

She scrambled up to re-exam the cell that she now knew by heart. Window, no. Door, no. Bricks, no. Board, no. She tested every solution twice, though she knew already of its impossibility. Her fingertips pinched the bridge of her nose as if that might spur her tired brain into a new solution. There had to be one. What could she have missed? Think.

As if conjured by her desperation, footsteps clicked toward her cell in the hallway beyond, soft enough to be a phantom. She rushed to the door. Tensed. Waited. It swung open, and she barreled toward whatever guard had foolishly provided the opportunity, only to slam face-first into a familiar chest.

"Aruc?" He shushed her, but her mouth continued without her admission. "What are you doing here? How did you break in? I've been trying for hours."

He held up a ring of keys and jingled them lightly. "Now will you shut up so we can get out of here?"

"I thought you hated me?"

His face softened. "Never." He ducked his eyes from hers, but the red tint to his ears gave him away. "Whatever…insult I might feel, I still care enough not to see you killed."

"We've got to get to Nessa. I've got to help her."

"No, what we've got to do is get you out of here in one piece. Fiyero is with Nessa. He's doing what he can."

"I can't just leave with her…" she swallowed, and he caught her hand.

"I know, sweetheart. But you'll be no help dead." She dug her heels in, a perfect model of determination, and he lifted his eyes to the ceiling. "Lurline help me," he muttered. "Fine. But come on. We've got to get out of here."

She led him down the now familiar hallways, careful to avoid where the guards' gossip echoed, and up the winding staircases to the main floor. She reached for the knob, but Aruc caught her hand.

"That door is guarded. This way." Another spiraled flight led to a narrow catwalk designed for strategic assaults. It traced along the walls by thin vertical slots no larger than her cell's window. Arrow-slots perhaps, though it overlooked the dungeon like a jailer's walk as well. With no railing, she had to extend both arms and hope to keep her balance. A simple task from the solid ground of the landing, but once she'd stepped on, the width seemed to shrink as the thin metal swayed.

Aruc toed across easily and waited a few yards ahead for her catch up. She whispered, "I'd never known you had such great balance."

"Couldn't you tell from my dancing?"

She snorted a soft laugh. "Oz, I'm glad not. We'd both be plummeting to our doom." She sidled forward another step, and the walkway shook in sympathetic motion. "Uh, this makes me feel seasick."

Aruc chuckled and placed her hand on his shoulder with his atop. "Look toward the horizon instead of your feet. That should help."

"Know-it-all."

"Jealous."

"For once, I think I am." She squeezed his shoulder, eyes resolutely on the horizon. Her feet shuffled over the gridded iron without daring to lift above the surface for fear of finding empty air. "Thank you. For coming for me."

"Of course. I'd say anytime, but I hope you're never in need again." She smiled, though of course he couldn't see, and she thought anew how convenient it would have been to have fallen for him instead.

"Fiyero."

She blushed, afraid she had said some unconscious flattery that he'd misread. "What?"

"We used to play here when we were boys. That's why it's so easy. We'd sneak away from our, well, his responsibilities and hide above the dungeons playing captains or pirates." Aruc let out a breath. "He never let me fall."

"Knew you'd come in handy some day," she teased, and he huffed a laugh.

"Glad I suit your purposes. Watch your step." He climbed down from the swinging walkway and offered a hand. She managed the dismount with only a minor lack of grace, and finally on solid ground, she breathed a sigh of relief. Aruc bit his lip and considered her a moment, unsettling in his intensity. "You suit him," he managed at last. "I can't imagine anyone more worthy of you."

She fidgeted at the awkward emotion that hung like a mist between them. "Which way?"

Another winding staircase led to a long corridor, and finally she recognized the shortcut. They were directly above her quarters, if she had to guess, in a solarium that housed herbal plants sunned by broad tilted windows. Now the framed glass filtered only moonlight, drowning the flora in an eerie glow that enhanced the surrounding gloom. "Did they take her to the healer, or the healer to her?"

"How should I know?" Elphaba shot him a look. "I've been incarcerated."

"Right. Sorry." Aruc rubbed the back of his neck. "Wait here, and I'll check."

He ducked through the opposite doorway, leaving her alone with the strange spiny plants. She paced around the room, eyes studying the foliage, but her mind was in the salon, watching Nessa's face burn with anger before Three's poison twisted it into convulsions.

Her sister hated her. And why not? Elphaba had failed her in so many ways, failed to protect her despite all her best efforts. Gloomily she trailed a finger through some long stalks with tiny purple flowers when a sharp, hidden leaf pricked her finger.

She snatched it back and sucked on it, studying the serrated leaf in surprise at the drop of her blood decorating it. Aruc returned to her examining the thin slice in her index finger. "Your plants are vicious," she accused, and he laughed.

"What did you do to it? I'm sure it was self-defense."

"Oh, ha, ha."

He looked over her shoulder. "Ah, Kinh Giol. Nasty little bugger. But its flowers are delicious." He strode over to the window. "She's not here, so we'll have to get into your family's suite. There must be at least a couple guards there already, unless they've already discovered your escape. Then there'll be dozens." He threw open the window as he talked, freeing a drape and tying it to the central iron beam. "So we can't quite go in the front door."

"So we're…?"

"How are you at climbing?"

As it turned out, she was far better at climbing than Aruc could ever hope to be. The poor boy half-slammed into the wall with every rappel. It was a miracle no one came to investigate all the noise he made, thudding against the stone. His whole left side would be covered in bruises by the morning. If they made it to morning.

She waited until he reached the window ledge to skim down the stone face in a third of his time. He stared at her wide-eyed. "What?"

"Were you a sprite in a former life?"

"Who said it was former?" She laughed at his expression. "No, but I'm lighter, and you're clumsy."

"Gee, thanks."

She ignored him to peek through the window. "My room. It's empty." She reached to pull up the lower pane when Aruc caught her hands.

"But then we'd have to cross the common room, right?"

"What then?"

Aruc tugged on the makeshift rope, and it held firm. "Think you could swing across, Miss Sprite?"

"Maybe." She tested the drapes uncertainly. "I don't think they'd take both of us."

"You first then. No one's looking to behead me."

She looped the cloth twice around her forearm. With a deep breath, she tightened her grip and sprang out from windowsill with all the strength she could muster. The wind whooshed past her face, stinging her eyes, but she didn't dare close them. The rope swung close enough to Nessa's window, and she let go.

The impact shot through her legs as she landed on the narrow ledge, and she flung herself flat against the wall, wobbling for balance. For a terrible moment, she thought she might fall. But her grip held until she felt steady again.

"Sweet Lurline," Aruc swore, a hand pressed over his heart. "Maybe you _are_ a sprite."

She rolled her eyes. "Test the rope. If it doesn't feel secure, go through the door, and I'll find a way to distract them for you."

He tugged on the curtains. "I can do it."

"You're sure?" He shot her a look. "Let me get this window open first. Wait till I'm clear." She pulled at the bottom pane, and almost jumped when it flew out of her hands.

"Elphaba?" Fiyero grabbed her hand and dragged her inside. As he blurted questions, he wrapped her in his arms. "How did you get here? Did anyone see you? I thought I'd never see you again."

"Aruc. And he's behind me. Hold on."

She pulled free and ducked back through the window to nod at Aruc. As she had, he gripped their makeshift rope and pushed off hard. It looked worse from this angle. Reckless. Ill-fated. Hubris in action. The wind whipped at him, and with a sickening jolt in her stomach, she knew he wouldn't make it.

He'd let the rope twist. Though he swung far enough to the ledge, he'd landed on his side, too off-balance to let go. He groped for the ledge, and found nothing. He'd started to swing back. Aruc's eyes widened. With all his weight, he tried to press off the wall, but his feet skidded over the stone uselessly.

"Aruc!" She scrambled forward, but she couldn't reach. He slid over the stone, scraping his right side hard until they heard a terrible ripping sound. Aruc flung himself off the wall with all he could muster from the awkward footing. Abandoned, the torn curtain fluttered the long way to the ground.

By some miracle, she caught his hand. The impact and his weight wrenched her muscles as they both slammed hard into the stone barrier. Her arms quaked with the strain of his weight. Fiyero leapt up behind her, clasping Aruc's wrist, and she snatched at his sleeve with her other hand. Inch by inch, they hauled him up until he could reach the sill.

Fiyero grabbed Aruc's shoulder to drag him up through the window, and the three of them tumbled in a heap on the ground.

"You alright?"

"You know me," Aruc breathed, "Always love to make an entrance."

Fiyero laughed and tugged his friend to his feet. "Idiot. Be glad you didn't get yourself killed."

Elphaba pushed between them and went to her sister's bedside, kneeling to feel Nessa's feverish forehead. "How is she?"

The boys shared a dark look, and Fiyero set a hand on her shoulder. "There's nothing you can do for her, Elphaba. We've got to get you out of here to somewhere safe before anyone finds you."

"I'm not leaving my sister."

He spun her to face him. "And I'm not letting them kill you." He combed a hand through her hair with a fierce expression that made her stomach tingle. "I should never have brought you back here."

"That's for damned sure," Aruc barked. "But I already tried to get her to leave. She won't until Nessa's okay."

Elphaba tore away to study the girl's frail form. "She's so pale."

"The fever. Nothing seems to stop it."

A shiver tore through her sister, and Elphaba pressed a worried hand to her shoulder. "We need to figure out what Three gave her."

"Oh," Fiyero grabbed a paper from the bedside nightstand. "I found the list of herbs: akudjura, quisawood, star anise, and jimuak."

"You gave her what?" Aruc snatched the paper out of his hand, shocked. "Star anise with akudjura? That's poisonous! Didn't you pay any attention in Botany?"

"Oh, shut up. You only did because you found my tutor comely."

"Are you two going to bicker or help?" Elphaba snapped, and Aruc ran a hand through his hair.

"I think I know what we can use, but we need to get back to the herb room."

Elphaba fought a sigh. After all this to get here, they needed to go back? She tucked a sweat-soaked strand of hair behind her sister's ear. "Hold on, Nessa. Just hold on."


	34. Witchery

Fiyero wiped a weary hand over his face. "Alright. I'll go first and distract the guards. Maybe they won't notice I'm not alone."

"We can't leave Nessa on her own," Elphaba caught his sleeve.

"And?"

"And Aruc is the one who knows what we need."

Both men turned to face her. "You're not going."

She crossed her arms. "I most certainly am."

"Why? So you can get captured again?"

She started to argue when Aruc took her by the elbow. "Your sister needs you here. You're the best one for her."

"But-"

"Do you really want to slow us down getting Nessa what she needs?" She glared at him, but his expression was kind. "I know you're faster than either of us, but think how we got here – catwalks and abandoned hallways and rappelling down walls. Fiyero and I can just walk up there and back. Without having to worry you'll be drug off to the gallows."

She scrunched up her nose. "You'd better hurry."

"Right. Ready?" Fiyero grabbed a small pouch off the dresser, dumped out the contents and strode to the door where Aruc waited. "Stay out of sight until you know for sure it's us. And for Oz sake, be careful."

"Me? Apparently I'm not allowed to leave the room." Fiyero shot her a look. "Fine, fine. Can you get moving? We need those herbs."

"Yes, ma'am." He flashed a tense smile that she forced the slimmest half-hearted attempt to return.

She heard murmured voices, and Fiyero's, "Of course Master Aruc was with me. Everyone knows his friendship for my wife. Who is dying. So you might not want to pester me now unless you favor a reassignment to the hottest corners of the Great Desert."

The bluff must have worked, and she heard the outer door open and close. The guards mumbled to each other, and had she not had her ear pressed to the door, she'd have missed the footsteps approaching. She scrambled to hide, but in a breath, the door was flung open.

A tall guard she recognized from her arrest scanned the room as a younger, thinner one searched the closet. They checked under the bed and behind the dresser, though how she might have fit there, she couldn't say. "You really think she's here?" the younger one said, and the tall one nodded.

"Heard a woman, didn't you?"

"It might have been the princess."

The tall one shot him a look. "Look at the princess, you idiot. She look like she's talking?"

With a sullen pout that accentuated his youth, the thin one muttered, "She might've been. Maybe she was talking in her sleep."

"Shut up and search." They slipped into a thorough search pattern, the tall one from the left and the thin one from the right, checking behind chairs, behind hung scarves, everywhere even remotely possible she might be hiding.

And each step brought them closer to her. She swallowed hard and tensed to spring at them. With the right amount of surprise, she might be able to overwhelm at least one of them. If she could get around the door and through the hallway…the other guards would just catch her leaving.

She worried her lip as the tall one took another step toward her, now in line so she could see the sharp point in his nose by profile. He toed over a basket, tumbling the worn clothes onto the ground, and he shuffled through the garments until certain no stowaway hid within. If he turned to his right, he wouldn't be likely to mistake the green of her skin for shadows. The discarded blankets lost his interest, and she held her breath as he turned…

"Hey, look." The younger one called, "The window's open."

Her would-be capturer crossed to the other end of the small room. "Damn. She got out first."

"Unless she wasn't here at all, like I said. There's no rope or anything she could use to get across."

"Don't be daft. She was here. Why else'd the window be open?"

"For air circulation. Maybe the prince thought the fresh air would help his wife get better." They continued their bickering as they headed toward the door, and Elphaba flattened herself even tighter against the wall behind it.

"Air circulation? It's hot as a dragon's tongue out there!" Neither saw as they walked through the door, too intent on their discussion. She let out a breath, half afraid she'd be stuck behind this door until Fiyero and Aruc returned, but the tall one called back. "Eh, shut that door, idiot. You want the prince to know we been searching his sick wife's room?"

The younger one bit back a weak insult and strode back toward the door. With one last sweeping glance at the room, he shut the door.

Elphaba leaned her head back against the wall and drew a deep breath to slow her racing pulse. It might have been easier to have done the rappelling and dodging and sneaking.

Nessa moaned from across the room, her head thrashing back and forth, and Elphaba rushed to her side. "Shh, shh," she cooed, trying to keep the girl's head still. "Hold on, Nessa. They're coming."

But not fast enough. Where were they? Had they been caught or blocked? She wanted to pace, but she was afraid to let go of Nessa, as if her touch superstitiously warded off the poison rampaging in her sister's veins.

Fiyero came through the door already frowning. "I told you to hide."

"About time," she snapped. "She's getting worse."

Aruc drew the pouch from an inside pocket and shook the herbs out on the nightstand. He crushed some leaves until a gummy red sap oozed out, which he dripped into the glass of water sitting beside the bed. "That should work. I think."

Elphaba snatched the glass of water, ignoring the sting of burns that leapt up where the water spilled on her hand and reopening the cut on her finger from the stupid serrated plant. She tilted Nessa's head back and held open her mouth. "Please let this work." She dribbled the gooey red liquid down into Nessa's mouth. "Please, please let this work."

Fiyero's hand dug into her shoulder as they all stared at Nessa for some sign of improvement. "Keep pouring it. Who knows how much she had?" Aruc encouraged, and Elphaba nodded numbly. Nessa's thrashing stopped, but she looked just as pale as before.

Then she stopped breathing.

Oz, this couldn't happen. Nessa wasn't the one meant to die. Elphaba was. And damned if she would let her little sister take her place.

The sound of voices caught the boys' attention, and Fiyero tried to pull her away to hide. But Elphaba shook him off, the antidote still dribbling slowly into Nessa's still mouth.

The door banged open, but she didn't look up until the last drop trickled from the glass. "What is this witchery?" the booming voice of the king roared. "Seize her!"

"Nessa, fight it. Breathe. Breathe, damn it." She shook her sister hard enough to make her teeth clatter.

Fiyero blocked her from reach, glaring at his father. "Leave her alone." The guards closed on him, and though he fought tooth and nail, their sheer numbers subdued him.

"You vile, evil hellion!" The king shoved her to her knees. "Was it not enough to deceive my son and betray your sister? To create a mockery of the crown with each treasonous breath?" He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her chin back to face him. "You poison your own sister, and in front of me, no less? You are without conscience. Such unnatural treachery..."

"Father, stop! She was trying to save Nessa. It was an antidote."

The king didn't even glance at him. "I'll not allow you another chance of escape. A sword now, and I'll slay this demon myself."

Fiyero railed helplessly against his restrainers. Aruc paled and took a mindless step forward, but Elphaba couldn't find the terror she should have felt. Her sister was dead. She would soon join here. Elphaba met the king's fierce glare with only calm peace.

Until a weak, shaky voice called, "Fabala?"


	35. Sentenced

Nessa's head wobbled weakly from the pillow and gasped at the sight that greeted her: her husband restrained by several guards as the king jerked her sister's head back, poised to strike. "What happened?"

"Nessa!" Elphaba yanked herself free from the shocked king's grip and rushed to her sister's side. "Are you alright? Can you breathe?"

Fiyero shook off his own guards with a spiteful glare and took the prone girl's hand. "You had us pretty worried."

"I see that," Nessa looked over his shoulder at the rest of their company. She shot a worried look to Elphaba. "I'm not decent."

Elphaba rolled her eyes. "You almost die, and that's what you're worried about?" But she reached for a dressing gown to drape over the girl.

Nessa looked again to the men all staring at her, and she blushed. Aruc took a step forward, "Your Grace, if I might be so bold, perhaps the princess could use her rest now that she has regained her senses."

The King nodded, and a guard took Elphaba by the forearm. "No," Fiyero bit out stubbornly. He latched an arm around her waist. "You're not taking her anywhere. Nessa wouldn't even be alive now if not for her."

"She violated her banishment. She must be punished, no matter how noble the cause."

"Please, Your Highness," Nessa spoke softly. "Just a moment with my sister."

The king took in her weak, pitiable expression, and he melted as easily as their father always had. Fiyero's hold did not loosen until his father had led out all the guards to wait beyond the door. With a final threat against any "ill-advised escape delusions," the king shut the door with a click.

"Thank Lurline you're alright," Aruc breathed as Elphaba tenderly brushed her younger sister's hair back.

"It is the Unnamed God we have to thank," Nessa rejoined, and Elphaba fought a groan. "And to Him I must surrender myself. This brush with death clarified His will for me."

"Oh?"

"The Unnamed God challenges us through adversity, that by our trials we might be strengthened for His cause. I see now my trial, and I am resolved to fulfill it." Elphaba prepared herself for Nessa's self-righteous sanction of her awaited death, but the girl smiled. "Fabala, I forgive you."

"What?" She must have misheard.

"I forgive you in the light of the mercy I have myself been granted. I see it so clearly now." Nessa struggled to sit up. "This life, this marriage, is not the path He would send me on. Prince Fiyero, I hope you can accept this, and allow me to follow the stirring His spirit gives me."

Fiyero feigned a somber piety. "Of course, Miss Nessarose. Who am I to stand in the way of the Unnamed God?"

Aruc swallowed a smirk. "So you'll divorce him?"

"An annulment would be more in order," Fiyero offered, red tingeing his cheeks at Aruc's expression.

"Please, Prince Fiyero, fetch my father and the like that we might arrange this tonight."

He nodded, and Aruc went behind him out the door to find the others. Elphaba brushed the hair off her sister's forehead. "You're certain? After all this?"

Nessa smiled up at her and nodded. "All this torment is my own doing, I'm afraid. A lesson to guide me back. This is not the fulfillment my life requires."

"But you've always wanted to be married. Since you were a little girl."

"And so I shall be." Nessa wore a peaceful smile. "I shall marry my Lord and join the service of the Mauntery."

"Nessa-"

"No, Fabala. You mustn't blame yourself. Trust me, I feel only peace at this decision. My regret is that I had to face death before I could accept what I truly wanted in life."

Elphaba thought of Fiyero, and smiled. "I know what you mean."

By the time Aruc and Fiyero returned, parents in tow, Nessa had regained much of her color and was sitting up, dressed enough to appease her modesty. "Nessarose!" Her father rushed at her, pulling her into his arms. "Thank the Unnamed God!"

"Sh," Nessa soothed. "I'm well and as whole as ever. By the grace of our Lord and his reluctant servant, my dear sister."

"Elphaba?" Frexspar's forehead wrinkled, and then he glanced at her, surprised to see her there. "But you were banished."

"_Are_ banished," the King reminded them. "Despite her supposed heroics."

"Your Highness, Three should be the one punished, not my sister. Elphaba only had the unfortunate fate to love the man she should have been promised to. I can't offer the prince any affection beyond friendship. I'm afraid I must trade my vows to him for those to a higher cause."

"Pardon?"

"I cannot marry him."

"But you already have."

"In name alone. My sister should take my place. She's the one meant for him." Frexspar started to argue, but Nessa shook her head. " My life is due to the Unnamed God, and I must follow His will."

"What does Three have to do with any of this?"

"She poisoned Nessa," Elphaba bit out. "Like I said."

"Yes," Nessa confirmed. "In my tea."

"Serious allegations, Miss Nessarose," the king warned. "You're certain?" She nodded, and the king called to the tall guard with the hooked nose. "Find Miss Three. Bring her to me."

The man scurried out, and Elphaba had to fight a smug expression as the king turned back to her.

"Still. A banishment is not a suggestion to be disregarded when it suits you. You violated your sentence, however dire the motivations, and you should receive punishment." The Queen took his arm, frowning, but he shook his head at her. "No, I will not pardon such constant disobedience. She is willful enough without believing she is above the rules."

"Father-" Fiyero started, but the King stopped him with a sharp look.

"And she has our son as defiant and obstinate as I've ever seen him." The king strode forward and caught Elphaba's chin in his hand. He tilted her face to stare intently at her, and she met his eyes without flinching. The corner of his mouth twitched, and he released her, frowning. "But I'll not have her made a martyr. A life sentence, then. But I'll not suffer any rebellions to this, no exceptions."

Elphaba let out a breath. It was more than she'd expected. A life meant hope. Perhaps with time, once Fiyero took the throne, she could be pardoned.

The taller guard arrived, hauling Three by the arm after him. He deposited her before the monarchs, and with a glance to the very conscious Nessa, Three crumpled to her knees. "Please, Your Highness. Have mercy. It was a mistake, I swear it. I never meant any harm."

"Liar!" Elphaba reached toward her, but Fiyero caught her against him. He whispered for her to stop before she landed herself back in judgment, but she broke free. "She has been nothing but a lying, manipulative witch since the day she arrived."

Three feigned an innocent look, and Fiyero hauled Elphaba back before she could slap the falseness out of Three's face. Aruc stepped forward, "She is right. There is no way the herbs could have been mixed by mistake. Jimuak is not an edible herb. She would have known."

Three started to argue, but the king's fierce expression stopped her. "I've heard enough. You dare to poison a member of the royal family? And under my own roof, no less. Your treason does not surprise me so much as your gall. Be glad I sentence you to banishment rather than death. And don't let Miss Elphaba fool you. If I see so much as hair of that guileful head of yours, I'll not hesitate to have you disposed of on sight, whatever lie you might spin to try to save yourself. Take her to the dungeon, and place her on the first wagon train to the Great Desert. Post her pictures in all outlying villages with orders to execute her at sight."

"No, Your Highness, please." Pale and teary-eyed, Three begged mercy all the way from the room, and when she was gone, the king turned back to Elphaba.

"It's time to carry out your sentence."

Elphaba nodded and turned to face Fiyero. She cupped his cheek in her hand. "Don't do something reckless, you idiot. I'll be fine."

"Me?" he choked out. "You're the reckless one, jumping out of carriages and rushing back into castles to save the princess." He pulled her into a fierce kiss, aching of lost opportunity. Then he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. "I will come for you. I swear it. Somehow, I'll find a way, whatever it takes."

She kissed him gently. "Take care of my sister. And yourself."

"I love you," he promised, his face etched in despair, and she forced a sad smile.

"I love you, too, you stupid boy. Now let me go."

He did, reluctantly, and she trailed the king from the room, flanked on either side by a company of guards.

* * *

Elphaba fidgeted with the buttons on the clothes they'd left for her to wear. She'd been dressed for hours, the walls of the little room slowly closing in. Was Fiyero waiting, too? Had Aruc already reached him?

She paced, anxious with the future waiting a few moments away. A knock on the door, and Elphaba rushed as the knob turned.

Her father stood in the doorway, outlined by the brilliant light. "Elphaba."

"Father."

He smiled and took her arm, "Ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

He guided her through the narrow corridor into the crowded room. Past row after row of nobles and dignitaries, she marched to her fate. The number surprised her, though it shouldn't have. A life sentence always merited this attention, it seemed.

At the end of the aisle, Fiyero beamed at her, and she hurried her father toward him. Aruc grinned beside him and winked at her, and she spared a blush. Fiyero took her hand and led her to stand before the king. "A life sentence I promised, and a life sentence I bestow. Do you, Elphaba Thropp vow to take Prince Fiyero as your lawfully married husband, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for good times and for bad, so long as you both shall live?"

"We've already done half those, so I suppose I can manage it."

"And do you, Prince Fiyero vow to-"

"Yes, yes, yes. That and more." He grinned at her, and before the king could authorize it, Fiyero hauled her to him for a long, fiery kiss.

The crowd erupted in applause, and the king chuckled his blessings, but Elphaba was lost to anything but Fiyero. With a final soft, tender touch, her new husband released her, and they faced the beaming faces of their friends.

The reception had an odd familiarity to it, the dinner, the dance, all of it, but with a bright giddiness. Like a weight had been lifted off them all. Aruc danced with her, and they stumbled about as atrociously as ever. Fiyero swept her off her feet, and even her father smiled at her whenever she caught him off-guard.

With the sun gone, and the stars twinkling, Aruc suggested they walk the east gardens for the last time. Fiyero took Nessa to fetch a shawl, and she strolled along beside her friend through the quiet moonlight.

"Well, congratulations. Fiyero is a lucky man."

She caught his hand. "I'm sorry, Aruc. You deserve your own happiness as well."

"Now, now, don't trouble yourself over me." He brushed a finger over her cheek. "I may never find as wonderful and spirited a bride as my dear friend has, but better Fiyero benefit from your favor than some cad. Perhaps I'll fall in love with the next girl."

"Aruc…"

He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Hush. I'm happy for you both."

"Hey," Fiyero called, mirth belying his poorly formed scowl. "What are you trying with my wife there?"

Aruc held up his hand in mock surrender, "Nothing now, thanks to your terrible timing. I figured I deserved at least a pity kiss or two."

"I'll thank you to keep your lips off my wife."

Fiyero caught Elphaba in a soft kiss of his own, and Aruc abandoned them for Nessa. "My lady. When shall we leave tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?"

Nessa nodded. "Aruc is escorting me to the mauntery."

"So soon?" Elphaba caught his arm. "Surely you could stay a few days."

"Time is precious, milady. But we shall cross paths again, I'm sure. She is still your sister, and I will always be your humble admirer."

"Humble? You?" Fiyero teased, and the boys mocked a chase around the girls as obstacles.

Nessa leaned her head on Elphaba's shoulder. "All things have a season, to grow and change, as the Unnamed God wills."

Fiyero wrapped her in his arm, and Aruc draped a hand around both girls' shoulders. Together they watched the brilliant colors of the desert sunset. She cherished the moment before it could pass, that joy wrapped in the bittersweet knowledge that time trickled on, making its own arrangements that none of them could ever predict.

* * *

AN: Thanks for reading. I've started on the M-rated Elpharic, but my computer is still broken so it might be awhile. Thanks for all the reviews and for taking the time to read my work.


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